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Normandy - Lost In Translation
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Normandy - Lost In Translation

Lulled by bells
of cathedrals and cattle,
my mind turns left
down a road out of town,
probably lost
so far from Paris
pollution and I think
of something worth
writing, give up
the best seat
in the house and slink
off to a corner
for a pen, quickly,
before the words jumble
like a license plate number
after a hit and run.

I always write
alone, like an injured
animal afraid
that if I hesitate,
that speeding car
might back up and return
to finish me off.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 4 votes ) 8

Comments (8)

I once found myself writing in a tube station in London simply because I couldn't wait another second to record my thoughts. You have captured that need so gracefully and beautifully! A standout poem! ~Ray
you nailed it gonna give you that that feeling one gets when you have to get it down, now before you forget
Lori, Really enjoyed this poem. Think John has a point about 'racing words'. Nonetheless good work! Carolynn
Lori...I like the revision, but I think there is still a problem with 'racing words.' John
Lori...the last two stanzas are great-really. Maybe you could cut the first three, which are interesting, but not nearly as powerful. I would say 'races away...' Your finger touched the gold on this one....take care, John
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