literature

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Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

                         1

Fitting into tree moss
held by daughter or deer tracks,
I follow a gully of leaf dust;
some things cannot be recovered
some things cannot be taken back
.

Tractor rust, barbwire holly, night-works of
crumbling soft logs; smaller and smaller
the guise of it becomes;  
I plant myself among the lucky ones:
bent limbs, broken stems, overhead and underfoot.

                         2

Roads are lifted off weeds and evergreens
and naked spokes – no one travels here on purpose,
stopping only to hollow out.  But
I'll keep a trunk beneath me 'til calendars
fill with Winters and I'm razed to ash for fleeting warmth.

As for the present, moving light,
I'll wind-tangle in a chine of sticks
crawling dew across a glint of silk
over the bright abyss of grass
and the dark of a pond ledge.
© 2009 - 2024 spoems
Comments37
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WalkinginDreamlight's avatar
I'm finding it hard to voice a literary comment for this piece that fills me with imagery becoming more than words can describe.

"I follow a gully of leaf dust..." feels profound in the inevitability of conscious demise.

I feel sad and lamentable whilst reading this poem, but can say at one point in my life, I had the pleasure of planting over 200 new saplings (helping nature continue to grow and show beautiful wonders to new eyes).

Where one world sadly comes to an end...new worlds open up with with wonderous feelings of nature that will grow over many years.

Thank you for sharing.