A New Segment Called...

...I don't know yet. I still need to come up with a good name. For half a second I considered calling it "Jamie's Poetry Corner" but I just couldn't. Too cliche, too lame.

But that's basically what this is. I'm going to post some of the poems I've written over the years. I've already posted them on another website, but I thought, "Hey, I should post some of them here too!" And so it was written, and so it shall be done. (Ten Commandments reverence. Didn't see that coming, did you?)

This poem is about my hometown. I wrote it for a class, but I still really enjoy it. I hope you do too.

Place

I forget how loud it is here.
How loud water can be.
It's not something one considers
when thinking about water.
Water is noisy.
It rumbles as it rushes by.
The sound bounces
off the concrete and steel beams
of the bridge overhead.
The rocks I stand on are smooth
and a little too slippery.
A result of spring flooding.
They are a dusty rose color.
When I think of rocks I don't think
grey or brown. I think pink.
Rose quartz plucked from the quarry.
There is so much of it here,
the entire place has a pink tinge.

By Jamie Rueckert