Friday, November 29, 2013

Dreaming sight



Shadows shorn from shouldered shapes declining,
drawn from rested elbows of the turning path,
draped across the lap of listless sun and sorrowed earth,
casting darkness, mottled, through reflected light,
to hold the image constant, drifting, dappled shades,
which lead the way to distant lure and dreaming sight.

Potential held within the arms of curving branch,
that moment on the road to hope - horizon's call,
where what lies far beyond does promise more it seems,
and yet, is harsh reflected, burning silent on the dusty road,
in contrast sharp and rigid, captured in the glare, unsheltered,
sweltered, aching in unforgiving vision, as freedom is bestowed.

5 comments:

  1. There's some spectacular alliteration in this poem. It's a feast on the tongue!!

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  2. Even as I look to the trees, their curving branches - I see the squirrels using their roads of hope to find their buried chestnuts...Harsh can be the name of some seasons...and yet we all need to rest before the new spring dance.

    Thank you for sharing your day dreaming.

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  3. Thanks Jules. It's an Aussie road so no squirrels.... possums though. :)

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  4. You are working some serious alliteration here -- I like it. :)

    -Nicole

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