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Pilgrim (Free verse) by timfowler
I walked last night to a place of flaring darkness, where bone faces, shining, turned to follow my silent steps. I walked last night in a country of the blind: all loveless textures, caught by a crude sculptor of mountains. I walked last night through the turning of a book and gained clear sight by the closeness of the words. I walked last night in a flow of frost, deep blue ice and light-fractured crystal, yet felt no fear of the cold. I walked last night with the will of others. and returned to this morning, waking immobile and grey.

Up the ladder: Memoirs of a miners son
Down the ladder: Living Conditions

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Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
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Arithmetic Mean: 5.7727275
Weighted score: 5.7588286
Overall Rank: 1801
Posted: September 23, 2002 4:10 AM PDT; Last modified: September 23, 2002 4:10 AM PDT
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Comments:
[n/a] INTRANSIT @ 64.12.96.237 | 23-Sep-02/5:47 AM | Reply
A quietly powerful piece. Quite good acually. I'll leave it to others more Knowledgeable than I to "harsh your gig".8
[8] Christof @ 195.172.133.226 | 23-Sep-02/5:58 AM | Reply
I like the crude sculptor of mountains.
[7] Lenore @ 64.252.102.35 | 23-Sep-02/6:33 AM | Reply
I like it however I'm not crazy about the use of 'flaring'. I stumbled on that one line. over all I give it a 7/10
[9] <~> @ 167.206.181.179 | 23-Sep-02/11:18 AM | Reply
i walked of my own will through the passages of this poem, smiled at your greying. Not at your weariness, but at your recognition of it, pilgrim.
[9] razorgrin @ 192.197.142.118 | 11-Oct-02/6:46 AM | Reply
Now this, i like this. great imagery.
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