when what we wanted was waived, it was war
we wished God eschewed with us,
not worked through us.
So plum lovers, puddle jumpers both
shot
a shell of sound.
Listen,
you can hear the ocean
a wonder, a whisper, the patience of pulse thunder
rumbling judgment, not yet
Not. yet.
Well, I didn't think this one was very amazing, but it got in the literary magazine, so here it is. :)
ReplyDeleteyay!!! :D get anything else in there? How exciting! I don't recall publishing a lot of freshman work! <3
ReplyDelete