only the wind,
later,
much later,
combing the grass
below the stately banyan,
dragging stale crumbs
into the vortex of a startled gasp,
feet bleeding,
heart racing
ahead of its trembling hands;
only the wind,
that stumbled upon the ring,
the big yellow diamond
like a chunk of cringing sun,
face half-buried in the mud,
a jaundiced star
trapped inside a gold mirage;
they say it wasnβt yet fall,
they say it was still warm,
but the leaves turned a sickly mustard hue,
falling in sallow clumps,
a stained blanket heaped over
an unclaimed corpse;
they say it never really dried,
and yet one day the whole tree died;
only the wind,
hugging the secret to its rheumy chest,
sometimes watched the stranger watch,
from a distance,
through the silence,
feeling the footsteps in the grass,
hearing time as it passed,
they say his eyes never dried,
and yet the light in them had died;
only the wind,
unable to lift it,
unable to leave it,
whistled over the lifeless plain,
sang alone of the toxic pain,
that still seeped
from the interred stone,
eating the roots
that embraced it.
Wow, oh wow. The wind and death–a body of a person and of a tree and a half-buried ring. The crumbs of life and sound and love make a gruesome picnic. This poem echoes in me, a tale of horror.
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Thank you Susan…appreciate your kind words very much!
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“the big yellow diamond / like a chunk of cringing sun,” reflects the mood of the poem so vividly…
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Thanks so much Sumana…
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What a powerful poem this is. The fourth verse was outstanding with such feeling and sadness.
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Thank you Robin π
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The thunder inside roars the loudest – such a clever, philosophical poem.. i doubt it was the wind to blame..
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In the end, no one can be blamed I suppose…for anything…!!!
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I really like the comparison of the tree which one day died and the light in his eyes which also died. I am feeling a backstory of what happened at the base of that tree, and the impact it had on the tree and the man. This is a very intriguing poem.
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Absolutely Sherry..the backstory is that picnic!! Who knows what happened then.. maybe we’ll save that for another prompt π Thanks so much!
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Beautifully and powerful. A great read π
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Thanks Purba π
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feeling the footsteps in the grass,
hearing time as it passed…
Sigh, beautiful! You never cease to amaze me π
Lots of love,
Sanaa
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Thank you so much !
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Wow. W.H. Auden would be proud to read your words. They are beautiful. This is such a lovely poem. It’s imagery is stunning and the idea of death and wind seems to touch a certain reality within me. Great writing!
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Thank you Myrna. That’s very kind. Am so glad you liked it.
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Wind knows more, sees more, and does more than we can ever imagine…
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Clearly!!
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A beautiful, haunting piece! I love how you used the wind and that was a lovely haiku! Stunning.
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Thank you Bekkie.
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This is such a wonderfully complex poem, full of so many layers and shades of meaning. For some reason, that line about the jaundiced star is going to linger… a great line.
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Thank you Matthew.. glad you picked that line!!
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Wow TP the thunder bowls one under leaving nothing but an end – some picnic!
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Thank you so much π
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I get a shot of lonesome with each line. Beautifully crafted!
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Thanks Luk, it is slightly dark isn’t it…but I do like to get on the wrong side of prompts π
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I think this is one of my favorites of yours. I had to read it twice as there is so much here and much to contemplate. Only the wind really knows which way it will blow…
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Absolutely.. thanks so much Truedessa…
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..”jaundiced star
trapped inside a gold mirage;”– Fine poetic description…. !! Phenomenal writing!Wow!
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Thank you Panchali π
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Haunting… the wind creates an eerie atmosphere and you fill it with images that stay with one long after reading.
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Thank you π
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Such a dark, haunting piece. Haunting in style as well as subject. I do enjoy the cultural touches too, like the banyan tree.
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I’m working on bringing in references that come naturally, while earlier I discarded everything that I thought didn’t translate easily into English… it is a work in progress!
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