in which the blue nile provided fodder for teen poetry

so, at a recent meeting for the writer’s group i belong to, we got to talking about poetry (this is mainly because a poet showed up, whereas we normally have novelists, so it was, no bad pun intented, a novel thing for us). once upon a time, i was a total poetry junkie. i consumed every e.e. cummings poem i could get my hands on, plus other by tennyson, poe, dickinson, barrett browning, thomas, frost…well, you get the idea. i read a lot of poetry.
i also wrote a lot of it, being the angsty young adult i was. so today i thought i’d share one from way back, when i thought i was all deep and meaningful and as pretentious as only an eighteen year old could imagine themselves to be. but i do rather like the poem still, and i can still hear the music by the blue nile that i wrote it to.

find/buy this print at etsy HERE


your black shoes
disappeared up the
steps leaving me,
standing in the
hazy blue and gray
shadows, to watch
the echo of silence
fill the crowded station.

(mp3) from a late night train by the blue nile

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