evening stills;
trees - wetted with rain -
stand and face a purple sun.
Listen to calls
pulse - a swell of birds
flickering nuances
cooing, echoing
beating little hearts
(inside my skull
I also am wittering and twittering)
Overhead; leaves lurch
wave on turning ocean wave
beckoning light: moving church,
urging Nature, lusting life.
love this. terse, and fresh as wet paint.
ReplyDeleteLove the short, sharp imagery of the words chosen. Very good indeed.
ReplyDeleteI feel the desperation and the frustration between the tortured spaces
ReplyDeleteThis is marvelous. It left me emotionally moved, brought there by the beautifully express sensuality and detail.
ReplyDeleteCarl Sharpe, VerseWrights
J'aime cette belle Poésie, fraîche et romantique
ReplyDeleteLike your Poétry with romantic touch
Michel Sulpin France
I Love it, great poem
ReplyDeleteLovely, descriptive poem, enjoyed the read.
ReplyDelete