mrs. martin said, "wow! wonderful stuff, amanda!"
my mother, ever changing
waves with inconstant peaks and troughs
in one place hot, near boiling
in another, frigid
the sand is my father's image
tread upon without gratitude or apology
he goes where the waves place him
and stays there
never saying a word
a random ice berg
in the vastness of the open sea
a sister whom you never see
who is so cold
you wouldn't want to
and the blue
a blue so rich and dark
in the depths of an unfriendly ocean
in the caves
which have never seen light
i am the blue ocean
so lonely and cold
i remember writing the poem in class, frantically flipping pages to find words to use. but i don't remember thinking much of what i'd written. i don't remember trying very hard to make these metaphors apply to my life. but it captured how i felt about my family perfectly. i seem to have left my brother out, but i think that was due to a lack of other interesting words to use for him more than anything else.
i'm not really one for poetry. i tend to write the un-metered, non-rhyming kind and always about the same things. but i like the concept of found poetry. i'd like to find another good story to use and try it out again.