I woke up this morning
to the sound of seabirds
crying rustily above the clank and
heave of the Norfolk &
a hundred miles
from the

19 thoughts on “displaced

  1. One means of conveyance within another, and the mood and thought are wonderful. If we know the sensations, it’s keener, and it seems we do know these.

  2. “I woke up this morning
    to the sound of seabirds
    crying rustily”

    i LOVE that you created a new word for a familiar sound. they DO cry rustily, don’t they?

  3. oy! I am behind on the comments already! Thanks, guys, for all your kind feedback– it is always great to know one is not writing into the void…

    Leslie, Life, Brian– I agree that “rustily” kinda makes the poem. I was actually surprised when my spellcheck told me it wasn’t a “real” word– it should be!

    missjane, wkkortas, wolfsrosebud (another great name, btw;))– this poem was originally twice the length it is here. I lopped off the second half like an outdated ponytail. I think it works better this way– pithy and chic. πŸ™‚

    Monty, I’m always glad to have you stop by, too! πŸ™‚

    belladonna– always nice to hear from you. Glad you enjoyed.

    jerry– a “Paul Simonized poem…” I like that. πŸ™‚ Well put.

    Porky (cute cute avatar, by the way), I hadn’t thought of that. But you’re right: the familiar does strike closer to heart, doesn’t it?

    Gemma, Thanks! I hadn’t really thought of the bridge that way, literally. But you’re so right– thanks for the feedback!

    You all rock! Thanks again for stopping by, and come back anytime! πŸ™‚

    • Wow, thanks, Carl. “perfect” just blows me away– this was one of my NaPoMo poem-a-day writes, and I am still not 100% sure of how I feel about it… but it is very reassuring to know you found some resonance with it.



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