later

Gold cherry

By Di_Hard

Thu, 22 Jul 2021
  • 2416 reads
14 comments
 

Woods' edge, evening, mid july. 

Walk through tall, wirey grass,

make a dozen daddy long legs 

zizz up, spark-like  in sideways sun,

though each returns soon to their own

cool, still under green blade curves.

If only words could be, so easily, unsaid

Certificate U
Poem

Comments

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

A great description of a tranquil walk through a grassy glade. I could just picture the scene at the edge of the wood.

Enjoyed reading.

Jenny.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou Jenny :0) It always seems specially peaceful that time of day in Summer, doesn't it? As if everything alive is relaxing after the heat

 

Submitted by marandina on

Evocative, visual poem with a great last line :)

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou very much Paul, am so glad you mentioned the last line as was not sure the grammar was right

 

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

delightful picture and useful metaphor! Hard to apologise and retract too. Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou Rhiannon :0) It is the heat, I think. I inflicted an elderly neighbour with my opinions on climate change and feel terrible now - was only there to do some weeding

 

Submitted by lenchenelf on

...and enjoyed.

Best

L xx

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou so much Lenchenelf, much appreciated!

 

Submitted by onemorething on

Lovely. Love zizzing. :)

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou :0) They did

 

Submitted by Insertponceyfre... on

This moment in time so beautifully captured is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day!

Please share/retweet if you enjoyed it too

Picture Credit:https://tinyurl.com/4nzkayhw

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

THANKYOU :0) That's a brilliant surprise! Am going for a walk now, will tell the daddy long legs they got pod :0)

 

Submitted by bhi on

Such simplicity and yet so much said and implied. I often wish that I could retread my tongue and wipe out the last utterance, but that wish cannot be; what is said is heard and what is heard is stored and when the time comes taken out with care to be released as it was. The ryhthm of nature is unique, each movement plotted, I would not say reversible, but definitely elastic.

 

Submitted by Di_Hard on

Thankyou, B, for giving your time to read and leave such a thoughtful comment