She,
glittering like streetlamps, yellow
of her skin, knocking them back
hand on her chin
Bold,
like glaring sunlight, beating
of her heart, so much life
within her
She,
of the world behind
the glass, so rippled and he ensnared
by the writhing Dead
Cold,
are the arms that tenderly try
to snuff out the joy
within her
5 comments:
I really like your powerful use of enjambement in the poem. The short lines and images gives it a pared-back stark feeling of being exposed in yellow darkness or bright sunlight.
I agree with the idea of the short lines. They give a surreal feeling. The poetic voice is quite numb in tone because of this which reminds me of the dull repetitive work that the women had to do. I love it :)
Thank you :)
has an eerie pace.. love it :)
The use of third person also adds to the isolation presented in this poem. Good job !
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