Subtle observations
upon this country weekend:
Black starry wood headboard,
the curlicues of nebulae and
galaxies, I wake up weeping,
some sad dream,
grimaced face the deck
of an old schooner, mast
creaks and tears leak, and
head sounding an ocean's fixins'.
Later on the drive
the road map splayed,
there is a bug, ant like,
some kind of critter
skittering over
the routes, symbols
legends and
betwixt greens.
It's moving while I'm
moving, but the
six legger scouts
another surface altogether
while I sit aside on mine,
perhaps, hopefully, sowing
a vaster serpentine ledger.
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Author:
Ian Carpenter (
Offline) - Published: April 12th, 2021 08:26
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 36
- Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses
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Comments2
May that ledger be filled with wonderful words Ian.
Welcome to MPS.
wonderful imagery, good poetry writing (in my humble opinion)
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