Weeping
falling
falling as shoulders
calving
falling as head
bouldering
falling as boulders
tumbling
crashing silently
crashing as waves
on forgotten beaches
crashing as lightning
on the dark moon
shards
dreams
shattered
crushed
heels grinding
nails nailing
pounding
deeper
destination tight
destination closed
destination dark
destination earth
alone
silent as winter morn
bare as the short light tree
a single cotton bird
solitary
weeping
falling
Commentary and Reading
3 comments:
Hi, Mr. Tree!
I truly love this.
I haven't been here in a couple months, but I get here and I read this and it's like you're in my head...you just have this magical way of describing feelings. It's a true gift you have there, Tree. And it's totally hot.
It's been awhile since I've been able to get around Blogland much.
Coming here feels so soothing to me, however.
I look at all the fantabulous images and start to look around and I get all tingly inside.
:-D
Strumper, my home is your home. Come have a lay and I'll get the butter. Been stocking up. :-D
I thought of Von, as I was reading this, of Von on his knees wrapping himself in the written words, his face buried in a tear. I thought of Von for these words surround, eyelashes are moist and I feel like I would only partially be exaggerating were I to claim it is the word itself that has lent wetness. I never intend to say the same thing, though it is often that way, but I console myself in fact, the fact that this is by virtue of the virtues of your writing, qualities that permeate each and every piece. Rollin', rollin', rollin', tumbling, crashing, this piece in its entirety is onomatopoetic, sounds so rich, resounding. The image is gorgeous. I wanted to say something more, something better, but it is simply, utterly gorgeous and it frames this poem so gorgeously. Would so love to hear this one read, now or at some point, and perhaps in the reading of it, the magnitude of feeling that it evokes will find spring. Incredibly stirring, This will never be gone, though the memory of direct quotes may fade, the details blur, the music, the sounds will be remembered always, know it as I know anything.
Post a Comment