Saint Pat's on Bridge

A Poem By Hannah W. // 3/31/2012

wooden stairs I climbed, my feet
bound tight with string. I climbed
up into the darkness with a pack at my heels
a pack of dogs or wolves or mice or deer I could not tell.
into darkness danced we all, springing
up on silent feet
in time to the drums and to the pipes way up above.

what song played pipe and drum, that wound its way below?
though eagerly I danced and sprang to it, I do not know.

old wood resonated underneath my fingers
my chest echoed out the beat of drums. I climbed
with blood humming deeply like the song between the notes
of the pipes that I could hear
drawing near
and I emerged.

I burst onto the landing the first creature from the herd
they could be dogs or mice or deer; I knew I was a bird.



That was so cool. I'm so

That was so cool. I'm so happy that you're posting often again! :)

E | Mon, 04/02/2012

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond


You are on a poetic rampage!!!!!! Loved it! I really really like the last stanza!

Elizabeth | Mon, 04/02/2012


The Holy Spirit is the quiet guest of our soul." -St. Augustine

 Spooky! But I loved it. Dogs


But I loved it. Dogs or wolves or mice or deer...

Anna | Tue, 04/03/2012

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief

Awesome!! You write cool

Awesome!! You write cool poems!!

Lilly Putt | Fri, 04/06/2012

Jesus Loves us all!!


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