dr_con Posted September 13, 2013 Share Posted September 13, 2013 In Anticipation of Fall's Colors Why do we go to cemeteries expecting to encounter the Dead? Today it rains two years ago another September it didn’t stop The thoughts of flooding makes those who were there uneasy reliving past as if it were now We’re more likely to run into them walking around outside iron fenced designations isolated to fallible memories Right here where yesterday the season’s last tomatoes glowed red in the sun and the blue slide of the previous owner’s swingset provided a cheerful background to the promise of eternal cornucopia now shrouded in raindrops masking the immediacy of last night's thunder One sees them playing in glorious folly Swinging and swinging climbing and whooping echoing actions through Spring’s forever promises Their absence an absolute presence. Quote thegateless.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Benjamin Posted September 15, 2013 Share Posted September 15, 2013 Your first and last two lines work extremely well with the sandwiched imagery of past and present.. I liked “ fallible memories” and the reflections on time and life that always seem more profound in autumn than any other season. Enjoyed. G. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dr_con Posted September 15, 2013 Author Share Posted September 15, 2013 Thanks G! Yes indeed 'tis the season;-) J Quote thegateless.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dcmarti1 Posted September 16, 2013 Share Posted September 16, 2013 Their absence an absolute presence. Oh, applicable to SO many aspects! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Gatekeeper Posted September 16, 2013 Share Posted September 16, 2013 Yes, 'tis the season - the season of dying. At least it seems that way in the north where the winter's prospects are not so welcome to those who after many seasons are sick and tired of the challenge. I don't have much time for cemeteries and find them rather bizarre, if not morbid, collections of stones, but I do frequent local ones for the winter bird count. I hope not to be put in one. Better that we kept a public book of personalities and deeds to assuage that fallibility of memories, and the presence of absence? Not that I didn't enjoy your poem . . . Quote from the black desert Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dr_con Posted September 16, 2013 Author Share Posted September 16, 2013 Thanks DC & Gate. Yes I'm still getting used too, again 'Seasons' on the East coast- After 25 years in the Nor Cal Bubble, It has been a challenge;-) I see cemeteries here as easily accessible parks, they are walkable in all directions fro here. My partner hates them, caught in their implied morbidity. She has a shockingly good imagination for an engineer ;-) I on the other hand see them as places of odd artifacts, accidentally preserved wilderness, and yes a prompt from the inexplicable end that harkens back to the inexplicable beginning;-) Many Thanks! Juris Quote thegateless.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
David W. Parsley Posted September 28, 2013 Share Posted September 28, 2013 doc, I keep thinking that something profound will drop from mind and I will put it here. Not so much. The poem and its experience is sufficient unto itself. I will trouble myself to say during one stretch, the piece imparts a feeling similar to that experienced when reading WCW's "The Red Wheelbarrow" or Ezra Pound's "At a Station of the Metro." Just part of the haunting in this one. I like it a lot. - Dave Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dr_con Posted October 2, 2013 Author Share Posted October 2, 2013 Thanks David for dropping in- I truly appreciate your engagement with the seasonal mood;-) Juris Quote thegateless.org Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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