Away from all the dogs we drove down south,
past the rivers ran amelia the rain
would hold the cross it seems. Revealing the
flesh, tearing open to recoil from the holler.

The knots in the door, hang trembling beneath
the arch oft wonderful mentioning hands
clasping blue grass, under balleous minutes
where there is a moon, and stars and the
day before hangs solemnly like cigarette smoke
in the presence of barns climbing out of ditches.

The resting lay still in the tall grass,
arms dragging amber flaying; repeating
in the direction; upwards or south, we think
of our Aunts and Uncles and nowhere in those
strange bodies do we feel the contempt
or homeward.
Last edited by Something_Vague at Jan 1, 2012,
Real pleasure in the rhythm of the piece. A couple of places where I thought it dropped slightly were "hang trembling low" (I think "hang low" or "hang trembling" by itself words better). "Heavy hours" is one of those 50-50 places, I wasn't a huge fan of the intakes of breath needed and felt it tripped up your beat, especially loitering on the end of a line break it constituted an ugly pause in total.

In the last stanza I can't but wish there was a way to have "amber" on the same line as "dragging", the a-d-a wording reads better when on the same eyeline than flicking across. Again, just a small comment.

Craftsmanship was all there fine.