Posted in Poetry

Listening For a New Day

Packing the car, the borrowed
thimble-sized camper,
we journeyed each new
July to Ely Lake where anger
was displaced, hacking limbs
for the nightly bonfire
and spreading too-hard
butter on slices of Wonder
Bread, too delicate
for such realities not
to tear.

I followed
the Blue Trail on my purple
Spider bike, pedaling
around the lake
seven, eight times,
hearing the voices
of the pines.


© Jilly’s All Rights Reserved

Posting for Poetic Asides PAD Challenge Day 1


A wild soul writing poetry.

13 thoughts on “Listening For a New Day

  1. I love the way you’ve chopped up the lines to give you them two meanings in spots. It’s an interesting poem, I get from it the way a holiday is a carefree time where you can ride around the lake 8 times if you want to, but also eventually you have to get back to going round in circles in reality. A holiday is a little pocket that can only shelter you for a while. I don’t know if that makes much sense, but I think the poem has a lot to think about in it, that’s just one of my thoughts about it, haha.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, the darkness that lurks on this summer vacation poem! Hacking limbs, torn Wonder Bread… imagery of redirected anger (abuse?). And then the child who rides to listen for a new day. This is one of your best (I’ll second Crow’s comment)!

    Liked by 1 person

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