This ancient drum, pounding anew
samples the past into a fresh song,
where old melodies and original rhythms belong,
melting down my core, forging me into something new.
Fear and longing beat a tattoo,
weaving into a bassline of torturous wrong
while prosaic life drudges me along
in this suffocating absence of you.
Redemption pirouettes on the periphery where my mind reaches.
You jitterbug through my memory;
possibilities of us dance the Charleston on beaches,
lonely, low-tide beaches stretching out to where the sea should be.
The vast expanse of emptiness preaches
your inevitable ebb from me.
About the Creator
Harper Lewis
I'm a weirdo nerd who’s extremely subversive. I like rocks, incense, and all kinds of witchy stuff. Intrusive rhyme bothers me.
I’m known as Dena Brown to the revenuers and pollsters.
MA English literature, College of Charleston
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
Keep reading
More stories from Harper Lewis and writers in Poets and other communities.
Violence Begets
"Any last words, cowboy?" "None you'd understand, sodbuster." "Funny. That's Marshall Sodbuster to you. But I meant some last nugget that would help us in the adjudication of the myriad offenses counted against you and your gang. I wasn't asking for penitence."
By Adam Diehl5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
Amazing