Blustery Day In Town
By skinner_jennifer
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In our town so many stores stand empty,
cold as weather; some left boarded up,
only sign of life are doorways sheltering
homeless,
their bodies huddled from cold chills;
tangle of dirty blankets or quilts,
lost expressionless faces say it all;
appearing swallowed up by some
distant memory of times past...
before nightfall.
I feel North wind's frantic powerful approach,
that continuous whoosh! So intense – its angry
perilous, force like unbridled wild horses
stampeding strength.
Masked faces pass as I wear mine,
fine wispy strands of hair escaping
woolly hat in frenzied fashion
time after time:
those untamed gales of powerful chaos
leaving me to surrender receptive to this
energy, full of intensity.
Passing shops where once I frequented,
nature's howling winds pushing me on;
leaving town centre, at last ready for
home.
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Comments
Ah that's a sad image of the
Ah that's a sad image of the homeless as they are particularly vulnerable in weather like this. You have woven in the harshness of storms with a grey, urban backdrop. Nicely done, Jenny. Paul
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And then the quiet of home …!
And then the quiet of home …! Very descriptive of being out in the wild winds. We hear of them more in Scotland than down south, don't we? Rhiannon
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I am so sick of this weather.
I am so sick of this weather. Can't wait for Spring!
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You've painted quite a cold
You've painted quite a cold picture of our modern towns here, the combination of the weather, the ever increasing number of empty shops, the enduring problem with homelessness and the facelessness of facemasks. I do worry about the future with the life gone out of our towns. There was a time, I would enjoy popping into town, even if just for a coffee, not now though, it's desolate and feels unsafe. 'Appearing swallowed up by some distant memory of times past' , this is brilliant, how life can swallow you up, peice by peice.
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Hi Jenny
Hi Jenny
Beautifully written, and certainly showing those who did very badly in the storms. I wonder if church couldn't open their doors at times like this to provide basic shelter.
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The blended imagery, of old
The blended imagery, of old and worn out bldgs, with the visage of poor and blighted souls, relegated to being old and worn out, works. The gray and life-worn countenance is like a weight upon the soul of those observing both. One wonders what vibrant past both species had experienced. The memories of both are probably rich and full of life, until they weren't any longer.
Good piece, Jen.
JXM
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