{ pathetic.org }
 

UNTIL

by Terry Olynik

Hold on tight.
My hand
Purposely brushes your thigh.
We shall not release
Until the second star
Bursts
BURSTS
(Colours
All over our past)

Strangers
May have their own tale.

The colours
Drip

So


Slowly.

03/28/2010

Posted on 03/28/2010
Copyright © 2025 Terry Olynik

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Clara Mae Gregory on 03/28/10 at 03:43 PM

I like this....the arrangement of the words that emphasizes the thoughts and the interplay of time and space....the symbolism...my favorite lines especially: "the colors...drip...so....slowly"...where the deliberate spacing and placing of words in the lines dramatizes the slow drip. A very strong piece of poetry you've created leaving a strong impression in the reader's mind. well done!

Return to the Previous Page
 

pathetic.org Version 7.3.2 May 2004 Terms and Conditions of Use 0 member(s) and 2 visitor(s) online
All works Copyright © 2025 their respective authors. Page Generated In 0 Second(s)