From circa 2004.  The Emily Dickinson influence, in metre and rhyme scheme if nothing else, is very obvious, to me at least.  I wrote this shortly before I discovered the joys of obsessive editing, and never calling anything done until I’d re-written it to within an inch of its life.  The imagery in the second and fourth stanzas still speaks to me.

I wish I were a beauty
To win you back to me
I wish I were a frigate
To sail us far to sea

I wish I were a church bell
Calling you back home
I wish I were the broken earth
Over which you roam

But I’m haunted by my ugliness
I cannot win you back;
I don’t know how to sail to you
I’ve never learned to tack.

I never walk into a church
But I feel that I intrude
And all I know of broken earth
I’ve learned in solitude.


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