“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Saturday, May 28, 2016
Synthesis
Two saplings sprang up
simultaneously
on the top of the Eagles Eye ridge line
Each grew taller from the others gentle support
alee with privacy shade,
goading each other on
lush in envy green
It did not take long before you could see
distinct personalities budding
from these two trees
with respect for the space they shared
not thier roots, but in between
branches as arms with finger
leaves and sparsely
touching
By now, from far away some say
even today-you can see how they've grown
apart
reaching for different light.
Image by Asher Brown Durand, Nature Study Trees Newburgh, New York, 1849 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Gravitas
For every poem I put here, there are four more never shared, around six never written and twenty-seven partially thought out. For every word...

-
1. Of my Soul a street is: Preternatural Pic- abian tricktrickclickflidk-er garner of starfish Picasso...
-
Someone said, the full moon looks larger in the city because of skyscrapers- which said nothing about people feeling smaller, more co...
-
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
No comments:
Post a Comment