this is the memory that
persists
feeding larger fires
like kindling
that great distance
your voice far from me
thunder
rain
clouds
crowding the sun
and then
the parched earth
serves its thirst
remembers its sweet
sticky nature
recalls how to
clump and hold
dust now receptive ground
welcomes the plow
2 comments:
Absolutely beautiful, Lady Hoo. (I'm beginning to feel quite stale - whenever i comment on any of your postings, i always use the same word. But then, if it has beauty, if it is of beauty, then...)
SPRINGTIME! (good poem).
-AB
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