Honey Lemon
Wed, 11 Apr 2007 at 05:16pm
untitled
We played in the rain…
We loved the rain,
Vancouver;
hate it or love it.
We danced in our bathing suits,
as the droplets prickled our skin and
drank tea in trees.
We were wild girls (and we loved it).
Our silent language, (as silent as two 5 yr olds can be)
is unforgettable,
we were unforgettable (and we knew it).
Games in the park,
a whisper:
“My lion can fly higher than yours can.”
But we were equal.
(We were one).
Enter, a cascade of wedges, ready to tear us apart,
cause departure, return and,
growth.
You deny that we’ve changed, but we have.
Honey lemon sweet and sour tears,
(we won’t forget you,)
But we can never go back.
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very nice, flighty, like 5 year olds playing in trees light shining daisyies etc. the more serious bits, to me, could have been cut though. I realize that this does add a different dimension, but the two portions (the light and happy vs the serious) are opposed, in my mind. But maybe for you this tension was important.
by the serious I mean in particular: the last linge, the last line of the penultimate stanza (?) and where you write "(we were one)"
Aw, it's so cute in a nicely mature way. And it's incredibly relatable...the vagueness of the "'My lion can fly higher than yours can'" allows the reader to input their own childhood games, I think. The crazy stuff you come up with as kids! Love it much, yo.
I thought this piece was great! It had elements of nostalgia that I think worked really well, through both the childhood beginnings and the eventual rift that you mention in the end. Very nice! :)
Hooray for thammoc!
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