eclipse Posted March 1, 2019 Share Posted March 1, 2019 Dying tree in a desert is like a lighthouse as dreams crash against it, rain falls onto a secret police man's glass eye reflecting fire, burning floors collapse in buildings in the village a pregnant woman and her son have to leave-the moon rests on a track as a train containing sacks of grain passes them on there journey. Soil whispers to seeds, words on a page plead to an unborn baby for comprehension, rain drops freeze on a glass eye, conflicts cling to the earth, ringing echoes linger-an Irish famine. Wishes are refined as migrants gather to create new communities, their pens are learning to speak a new language that cannot be silenced -that of the land. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Tinker Posted March 1, 2019 Share Posted March 1, 2019 5 hours ago, eclipse said: words on a page plead to an unborn baby for comprehension, What a great line! Hi Barry, I'll have to come back to this, it is going to take me a while to "get it". Your first stophe, while having some interesting images, made no sense to me. The images seem disconnected like that of a dream. The second strophe is more cohesive and has a consistent focus. Fascinating imagery as always. ~~Tink Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
tonyv Posted March 3, 2019 Share Posted March 3, 2019 An interesting concept, this notion that "land is life." I think what speaks to me the most in this one is "conflicts cling to the earth." Tony Quote Here is a link to an index of my works on this site: tonyv's Member Archive topic Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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