From the poet’s dictionary

noun \ˈpis-tən\
a sound like a fist, like rain,
like fat drops on hardpan,
like a screen door flapping,
like gasoiline on skin,
like burning sand,
like the smell of coal ash
at ten below zero,
like a stain in the heart
that cannot be removed,
like every slamming, crushing,
fierce and mortal thing
that cannot be undone,
except by love.

See also grief.

2 thoughts on “Piston

    • Thanks, Elaine. This one almost wrote itself. I was just sitting around thinking what an onomatopoeic name for an object. It’s the closest thing to an imagist poem I’ve written, at least in a while.

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