Mystic Feelings

March 14, 2018
By Ashley Miller BRONZE, Plainfield, Illinois
Ashley Miller BRONZE, Plainfield, Illinois
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The night was loaded with omens

Like the work of an evil child

I, being human, was an evil child

The grieving sky turned

The wind got up

The wind cut

A tree crashes down

The strange landscape shouted with surprise

Bewildering, intoxicating

An evil child was the pinnacle of creation

Frantic to talk

Hungry to talk

Brushed quickly away, dirt under a rug

Once stopped, I was caught, trapped in color

The tree became a spring fountain

The wind waved

Struck with dazzling uncertainty

As bright and clear as crystal

It was an intolerable magnificence

Light Light Light

One cannot make the words too strong

Intolerable magnificence

I, an evil child, could clearly see

Everything easily ran to get away from an evil child

Everything was trapped in color and dazzled by the clarity of light

I recognize now that one thing can change everything

The author's comments:

This is a found poem using words only from John Steinbeck's "Travels with Charley" and Mark Twain's "A Toast to the Oldest Inhabitant: The Weather of New England". 

Similar Articles


This article has 0 comments.

Parkland Book