For seasons,
Buckner played a respected game
Until a win slipped under his glove.
One mistake haunts lives.
For years,
Knievel dared the devils
To thrill a perverse crowd.
One fall shatters bones.
For decades,
Petrarch dedicated sonnets
To a woman who refused his love.
One word ends affairs.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
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3 comments:
This poem makes me think of Dustin Johnson's two stroke penalty on the 18th of the PGA Championship over the weekend. It's painful to witness such haunting moments that can define a lifetime's work.
There's so much loss in this poem and I like how you interweave the different ways of those through unlikely similar people. I also noticed your use of sound... it's so well crafted (lives, devils, Knievel.. game, glove...) there's a lot going on besides the content. I also like the "one" lines, they tie the poem together, and by themselves, they could be a three lined poem. Nice work.
What I like is the economy. You could have expanded, but true to the title it is very economical. Fun stuff.
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