i saw the photos and read the story of our vandalized walking path. here's what most "burns me up," as my dad would say. the destructive act? the fire starters themselves? no, i think it's the foolish insolence of online responders. (note to self, once again: it is best to avoid reading such comments!)
cross over
found out the bridge was burned
real bridge, real fire
some one dared destroy
some thing we all enjoyed
public property
how uncivil
how uncivil
public commentary
slander pointing fingers
to find imagined solace
in eluding inner vandals
whose bridges we've tried to burn
*poem written by c. l. atkinson for random acts of poetry
5 comments:
I particularly like the visual structure of this poem. You have made an arch, a bridge, in creative defiance of the vandals.
scorning my monsters has become common.
... but the bridge visual i did not consciously intend. i love that about poetry (or any act of art)! so inclusive, timeless, that any reader can find something of beauty and value, evoking more in the poet, so the circle of giving (creating!) begins.
Whether you intended the visual or not, the two stanzas mirror each other's structure in a wonderful way.
cheri this takes me back to a particular area close to my high school. it was vandalised and run down, but i saw art in the mire. i saw voices. needing to be heard.
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