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sad chore
Contributed by
cashfan1
on
Monday, 17th May 2010 @ 01:51:02 AM in AEST
Topic:
anguished
|
Dark earth turned with a rusty spade, gripped by trembling hands
And all around the smell of crushed pine needles
And a hint of sweet wild garlic.
The clearing is lit by a plump silver moon
That is strung between the trees and watching stars.
The far away hoot of a barn owl and it's mates returning call,
Are a ghostly cry echoing on the still night air.
Gripped by silence and the light of the moon,
Our nostrils filled with the woodland smells we come together,
The stiff corpse in tartan rug between us
Held like the precious life it was.
At the graves edge you stumble slightly with emotion,
And in that terrible moment I see a shadow cross your face
And together we lower the tartan rug and return the earth from where it came.
Copyright ©
cashfan1
... [
2010-05-17 01:51:02]
(Date/Time posted on
site)
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Re: sad chore
(User Rating: 1 )
by Debris on
Monday, 17th May 2010 @ 04:45:07 AM AEST
(User
Info | Send
a Message)
|
Wow- I really liked this piece. Very well put together, particularly the second verse.
"Held like the precious life it was"- that says so much, so packed with thought and emotion.
Well done. Thanks for posting. |
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Re: sad chore
(User Rating: 1 )
by northernlights on
Monday, 17th May 2010 @ 05:33:30 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| wow! again from me beautifully descriptive piece of writing,using all the senses to take us there, visually clear giving us quite a picture and so sensitively written.... I see a shadow cross your face..... then ending with a full cycle of life. well done poet |
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Re: sad chore
(User Rating: 1 )
by elle on
Thursday, 3rd June 2010 @ 09:02:45 AM AEST
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a Message)
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| Your poetic voice trembles clearly through the sad song of your heart. In this piece I especially feel your inner connection. Great write. elle :) |
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