softer as on normal days
the new leaves long turned dark green
the meadow (where we lay)
gained purple and yellow
as being touched
as if it noticed the change
just in time a moving out of the way
instantly
the crashing thunder
as you fell from the sky
a down pour
how could i have known?
as the sun kept shining
dark grey thoughts opposing
the hammering continues
love songs keep playing
latadadadi
we pick the petals from a daisy just to see
4 comments:
I tried but cannot understand your poem.
It's incredibly eloquent or perhaps profound, intricate and complicated. I cannot say I know of these matters.
Perhaps my men's poetry group will discuss it they finally get together. How odd that a hockey game or a few beer will bring these men together but poetry and softer discussion items are so difficult.
I would like to discuss nature poetry and its link to loving and living. There seems to be a profound link between loving natural things and the wilderness and the capacity to love another.
Have you thoughts on this?
Looking At The Geese
My understanding
left the building long ago.
My love congregates
like the Canada
Geese that flock in the local
park come running at
the first sign of bread
held in my old crafty hand.
In no time at all
I find reflections
of you in the sleek black shine
of mother goose eyes.
Jozein, the finished poem is located on my blog and is slightly different.
Nice. The last three words are particularly evocative.
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