White Sailors
By onemorething
- 2804 reads
The dead do not return, and
the living are always moving on;
we accommodate the hollows
of these losses.
The dunlins leave over uplands
of sedge and lichen, crowberry
and green swords of pine.
Over black ocean,
they are driven to flight,
to be guests of mud and sand,
the marshes gather the flings,
impermanent shores
bear their peeped staccato.
Above, the clouds drift, ghosts,
white sailors -
my love is the sky, and so
it suffers these passages.
Image is from here:https://tinyurl.com/49rs962a
Also on Twitter: https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:John_Constable_-_Cloud_Study_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg
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Comments
Love the first couple of
Love the first couple of lines...and the last two lines...and the lines in between. Oh..it's a super poem! :)
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Embracing the spirit of your
Embracing the spirit of your poem, gave a sense of movement, these birds relocating constantly, just like the clouds. Your passion for this bird shines through in your words.
Thank you for sharing.
Jenny.
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Pick of the Day
This very beautiful piece is our Facebook and Twitter Pick of the Day! Please do share/retweet if you enjoy it too.
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I like "peeped staccato" very
I like "peeped staccato" very much, always find it hard describing bird sounds, but this is perfect, delicate
I would not dare to have the sky as a love :0) a surrogate parent perhaps
beautiful, rich poem
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This is great. I like the
This is great. I like the spareness of the tone, which feels like a sky in itself.
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beautifully measured from the
beautifully measured from the opening lines to the stunning finish.
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