Pantoum Gold | Teen Ink

Pantoum Gold

January 6, 2010
By CharmingChar PLATINUM, Bronxville, New York
CharmingChar PLATINUM, Bronxville, New York
21 articles 0 photos 19 comments

Favorite Quote:
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Robert Frost


With his head under the hoof of a beat-up old ford

He heard the beats, synchronized beauty.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum

The moon over head, shining off her coat and the stars in her eyes.

He heard the beats, synchronized beauty

A deep thud on the earth, kicking it up behind her

The moon over head. shining off her coat

A splash through the brook, and coming closer.

A deep thud on the earth, kicking the moss up behind her

The man ran and got his hemp net, he could catch her

A splash through the little stream, ever closer

He ran out in the dirt, immobility spread through him intertwining in his limbs.

The man ran and got his net, he would catch the beauty

Glossy skin, a prism of oils, the steam of heat and cold pouring off her

He ran out and stood, stood and watched

And he stepped forward, a hesitant, slug-like step towards his prize.

Glossy skin, a rainbow of oils, the steam of the heat and cold

As the water fell back in the stream, he saw her for the first time

She was gold. A snort and she slowed

And he stepped forward, a hesitant, slug-like step towards her

As the water fell, he saw for the first time, huge, dangerous, gold

His step towards her, she didn't flinch, she let him take the step

And then he stepped forward again, confident this time

And she let him.

His step toward her, she didn't flinch, she let him come near

He reached out, his bony finger touching her downy skin

And she let him

And then, in his gray flecked eyes, he saw her move and he was too late.

He reached out, his bony finger caressing her downy skin

He was experiencing for the last time, he would never forget

And then in his gray flecked eye, he saw her move and he was too late

She fled into the night, a reflection of gold on the stars.

She fled into the night, a reflection of gold on the stars.


The author's comments:
I wrote this during one of the best classes ever offered at my school. The message...well you'll have to figure it out by yourself but "She" was either a beautiful virgin goddess of a black stallion, I could never decide

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