A circle. A destination. This day.
The everlasting question: how far is it still?
My expectations. Your silence.
The stones that count down the miles, in red paint.
Another photo of the horizon.
The fact that we are always t(here).
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Filed under Dorothee Lang
Beautiful and haunting, the relationship, the journey, the questions. Nice, Dorothee.
Sadly beautiful and true.
that’s like a clinic in poetry. every letter works, and works hard.
You make every word count, Dorothee! Always there, always here. Indeed. Peace, my friend.
Thoughtful and beautiful. Loved this, Dorothee.
Beautiful. Great close.
mysterious and quizzical this puzzle of a piece holds the reader tightly in search of the clue that unlocks it all.. fun write dorothee
I love this. I found it sad, though.
thanks so much for the feedback!!
i wrote this poem while in Spain, or rather: pieced it together from a page of collected lines, with each line written in another place and mood. i was surprised by the way they clicked together in the sorting i found. i might experiment some more with this approach and format, see what surfaces.
I like the explanation you gave here, Dorothee and how it seems, as with this piece, you are constantly toying with collage and form, and how words coalesce or not. I really dig this sculpture-word-artform. I will miss reading your work!
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