Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Under Glen Span Arch, Central Park, April 2009

A ring of bluebells
hushes the Ravine: on rough dirt
water runs by; birds trill along;
squirrels hurry ahead.
Stopped
behind Ancient Schist, we spy
his bared young hips
swaying: back, forth, in grotto’s shade,
her hidden mouth.
 

sarahkSarah Key has had poems published in Poet Lore, Naugatuck River Review, and Enizagam. She has studied at Cave Canem with Eduardo Corral and in master workshops with Sharon Dolin and others. Currently, she has seven essays on The Huffington Post. Her blogspot at The Huffington Post is here.

 

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Categories: Poetry

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2 replies

  1. I discovered the grotto under Glen Span Arch just yesterday. I love that even after 16 of living in New York, I’m still making exciting little discoveries in the park! But the grotto captured my imagination as it clearly has yours. I couldn’t imagine why it was there and why it would have been built with a ledge upon which one I suppose could sit…or do other things. So I turned to the Internet and spent over an hour learning about the picturesque style in gardening in which grottos were often employed. And that’s how I found your blog. I love how this poem captures the natural beauty, the sense of discovery, the scintillating momentary thrill of the voyeuristic encounter– with so few words! I can’t wait to read some of your other poems.

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