Sojourn

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    Sojourn

      The car frozen and immobile like a boulder, took its position on the globe. Rubber turning to cement while I jerked back and forth trying to continue my movement forward. Dusty pebbles sprinkled across my feet and tickled my throat. Constant momentum ground to a halt does not liberate you but rather encapsulates you.

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    lithiumblack commented on Sojourn

    10-21-2009

    Short and to the point, flavored with obvious frustration. Good piece, and great use of language. Another 10.
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    If I feel physically as if the top of my head were taken off, I know that is poetry.

    Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) American poet.

    rubygirl’s Poems (2)

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