Sunday, September 26, 2010
Writing Exercise Two
How will I know who I am? Conversely, how will you ever know who you are? I've found that the only way I can find my identity anymore is through you. As I write, with you sitting across the room in the red easy chair, I envision your lips are the gates. You stifle a yawn, and as you do my imagination sprints and I'm suddenly inside. There are two dark, winged figures, but who are they? They cry out that they cannot land, and I suppose the two of us have never really been grounded, have we. Safe from lightning bolts or vulnerable to their split-second descent. As your mouth closes, and you raise delicate fingers to your lips out of propriety, I find myself knowing more than I once did.
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Ironically enough, I've become consistent with my posting early Sunday morning. Unfortunately, this is my second Literary Nonfiction entry in a row.
ReplyDeleteOur in-class assignment this time was to read a poem and to write a prose piece based off of it. The poem used here was Charles Ghigna's Parting Shadows, which can be read here if you scroll down.
Reading the poem should help you appreciate(?) what I've written.