Friday, February 25, 2011

ABC Poem - Creative Writing

Always, in the distance, i hear a small noise. Barely audible over the whirring of my thoughts and the rushing of blood through my ear. Carefully... i pick the sound out of the rustle and clangs of the world around me. Distant. Evasive. Further than any place I’ve ever gone; the store to pick up another gallon of milk, grandma’s house for Sunday dinner, under the bridge, behind the school where I was dared to kiss Kyle Vager. Growing faint as I try to reach it, the sound plays with my mind. Hear it? I swear I can. Just beyond the horizon. Kelly. Listen. Makes my feet want to move and my mind think past the dull, monotony of the small town around me. Nobody hears it? Of course not. Preoccupied as they are with everyday things; newspaper, coffee, drive, sit, work, repeat. Quietly I hear it calling. Restless I feel to go to it. Still, my heart falters. Tomorrow, I say, but the sound is persistent. Until I try, how will I know? Very slowly, as if time itself is holding me back, I follow. Why wait? Xactly. You are enough, you are different than the others. Zipping by my old town… but I hesitate on the threshold… then plunge into the unknown, never to return again.

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