Thread: the barn

I used some aspects from another poem in writing this (it was pretty much a rough draft for this poem), if anyone notices something that looks familiar.


And the wet grass
licked our feet as
you led me down to
the barn behind your
father's house.

We took turns lighting
matches when we carved
our names in the rafter
where you hid your mother's
wedding ring.

It's still there
hanging on a bent
nail, catching light
like low yellow eyes
on a dark road.

We heard his footsteps
coming towards the
barn and you began
to cry. That was the
last day I saw you.

Our names linger
there, hanging in the
darkness, hidden
like fox teeth
in the grass.

I really like this one - very nostalgic and tender - some very nice images and similies in there too, they serve your purpose well.

---todd

Nice one.

Your similes are excellent. Great job using economized language as well. Bravo!