What is The policy concerning time travel in this poem? Who knows? Sneezing is no easy matter, Neither are the stars. The wrest is summer rain From summer rain. ~ All this Light, Yet it was At first Darkness, No hands On the wheel, Yielding The Blueprints. ~ Sometimes the ephemeral Almost poses, The dream rattles its antlers, At the curb A puzzled moon In the rainwater.
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
naïve haircuts 
Magic!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this. There’s something about “The wrest is summer rain / From summer rain.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! I’m very glad you think so.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the curious juxtapositions in this piece, particularly the final section. We’re all searching, something just out of reach. You’ve expressed it eloquently.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Steve! I’m glad you think so.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful poem
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you! I’m glad you think so.
LikeLike
Hi Bob. I was rereading this yesterday (I often reread people’s poems long after I have read them!) and I simply love this line:
“the dream rattles its antlers” – and also the line that precedes it about how the ephemeral almost poses.
I had it stuck in my head all day and this image of some creature, not quite moose, not quite reindeer, facing me standing there in the late afternoon sun (that particular light when it turns orange) somewhere in a meadow. And it looked at me and rattled its antlers and there was a sound like bells. 😀 I just wanted to share that with you. I thought you should know how atmospheric your poetry can be.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wow. How wonderful! Thank you so much for saying so. I am very happy the poem had that affect.
LikeLiked by 1 person