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Seeing ThingsBy Gareth Culshaw QuailBellMagazine.com I went with him once, sitting at the pond side. he loved the reel of things, casting hope into
the unknown, breaking the skin of silence. his float would 'plop' plop! plop! plop!, a light hand for such an age, as if he already knew the best way to live. mine was a 'dunk' cracking the pond like ice water. not thinking of of what might be next. haven't seen him for years, maybe he still goes. searching for the unknown breaking the stillness with a light touch. as I myself mature such a thing. #Unreal #Poem #Unknown #SecretLife Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. Comments
Carolyn Martin
8/29/2016 10:30:44 am
What a gentle, lovely contrast in the old man's "plop" and the young man's "dunk." To use these sounds as metaphors for established maturity vs. emerging maturity is brilliant!
Carolyn Martin
8/29/2016 10:31:24 am
What a gentle, lovely contrast in the old man's "plop" and the young man's "dunk." To use these sounds as metaphors for established maturity vs. emerging maturity is brilliant!
Carolyn Martin
8/29/2016 10:31:43 am
What a gentle, lovely contrast in the old man's "plop" and the young man's "dunk." To use these sounds as metaphors for established maturity vs. emerging maturity is brilliant! Comments are closed.
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