rain falls, trees weep.
everything is muffled under my hood.
later, when i look at my shoes, they have a tidemark,
a salt line, marking the boundary between before and after.
Wonderful - I have been fascinated by the meaning of boundaries for a long time and this is one which is so material and visible - and yet I have missed since childhood (and that weas a long time ago, despite my attempts to hold onto it!).
6 comments:
Using the real, you propel the poem to something more etherial. Wonderful!
Wonderful - I have been fascinated by the meaning of boundaries for a long time and this is one which is so material and visible - and yet I have missed since childhood (and that weas a long time ago, despite my attempts to hold onto it!).
Tide marks - oh how I identify with this ! Nice piece. Thanks for visiting my blog.
Of course - and how clever of you to say so.
Lovely, the last line brings it all together so nicely... the word "muffled" sounds sweet here. I am so happy to enjoy so many gorgeous stones... :)
Thanks for all the comments, I liked reading them, they mean a lot.
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