Hazel's Hex
She holds her hand
against the glass.
Before she gets
too much memory.
This game of numbers
chances so high to lose.
I hesitate
to call her name.
Deep humid night
sick wildflower smell.
Watch her knocking
across the Village Green
I feel a sinking inside.
Looked into her eyes
like a night move to hold her.
But that's not possible.
Frayed pitch
I must have thought I'd tried
but I stopped way short.
Her beauty is eternal
being weary and so wary.
Reconstruct my heart.
Or something like
revisionist memory
since it was nothing
but scrambled dogs and
chitter-chat.
-Will Dockery
More of my life transformed into poetry/art.
Hazel's Hex
She holds her hand
against the glass.
Before she gets
too much memory.
This game of numbers
chances so high to lose.
I hesitate
to call her name.
Deep humid night
sick wildflower smell.
Watch her knocking
across the Village Green
I feel a sinking inside.
Looked into her eyes
like a night move to hold her.
But that's not possible.
Frayed pitch
I must have thought I'd tried
but I stopped way short.
Her beauty is eternal
being weary and so wary.
Reconstruct my heart.
Or something like
revisionist memory
since it was nothing
but scrambled dogs and
chitter-chat.
-Will Dockery
More of my life transformed into poetry/art.
(From the archives)
Will Dockery wrote:
Hazel's Hex
She holds her hand
against the glass.
Before she gets
too much memory.
This game of numbers
chances so high to lose.
I hesitate
to call her name.
Deep humid night
sick wildflower smell.
Watch her knocking
across the Village Green
I feel a sinking inside.
Looked into her eyes
like a night move to hold her.
But that's not possible.
Frayed pitch
I must have thought I'd tried
but I stopped way short.
Her beauty is eternal
being weary and so wary.
Reconstruct my heart.
Or something like
revisionist memory
since it was nothing
but scrambled dogs and
chitter-chat.
-Will Dockery
More of my life transformed into poetry/art.
(From the archives)
Quite good and somewhat obscure to me....
Hazel's Hex
She holds her hand
against the glass.
Before she gets
too much memory.
This game of numbers
chances so high to lose.
I hesitate
to call her name.
Deep humid night
sick wildflower smell.
Watch her knocking
across the Village Green
I feel a sinking inside.
Looked into her eyes
like a night move to hold her.
But that's not possible.
Frayed pitch
I must have thought I'd tried
but I stopped way short.
Her beauty is eternal
being weary and so wary.
Reconstruct my heart.
Or something like
revisionist memory
since it was nothing
but scrambled dogs and
chitter-chat.
-Will Dockery
More of my life transformed into poetry/art.
Found in my Drafts file...
:)
Will Dockery wrote:
Hazel's Hex
She holds her hand
against the glass.
Before she gets
too much memory.
This game of numbers
chances so high to lose.
I hesitate
to call her name.
Deep humid night
sick wildflower smell.
Watch her knocking
across the Village Green
I feel a sinking inside.
Looked into her eyes
like a night move to hold her.
But that's not possible.
Frayed pitch
I must have thought I'd tried
but I stopped way short.
Her beauty is eternal
being weary and so wary.
Reconstruct my heart.
Or something like
revisionist memory
since it was nothing
but scrambled dogs and
chitter-chat.
-Will Dockery
More of my life transformed into poetry/art.
Found in my Drafts file...
:)
Simply outstanding poetry.....
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