It's been a while. Now that the sun showed up a little bit of inspiration has poured in with it as well. Here is an attempt at writing a longer bit of poetry. I'm being a brave boy! Kind of a work in progress. Thanks for looking.
Treasure Hunt
We sit taking note
of the spin of the washing
stuck in another cycle
and listen to the tumble of a dryer
the radio announces the buildup of traffic
we slowly grind to a halt.
Outside the dusk wisps in
and the sea rolls gently out.
The last minute sun carves
shadows into the coast.
Inside we yo-yo across panelled floors
searching for memories, skirting boards,
looking behind cracks and crannies
and under the old worn doormat.
We strain, reaching hands high,
checking cupboards and shelves
looking for images
to attach to our hearts.
We flick through family albums
in search of a face, a smile,
a cool green summer afternoon.
And we hunt high in the attic
through spools of home footage.
Failing to find clues
we search the recess of the brain,
finding nothing.
2 comments:
Please do not construe my delay in replying as having any meaning other than I have my hands full these days and not all that much access to the net. I'm sure you probably already guessed this but I wanted to say it right up front. :)
There is a lot of good stuff here, my friend. I think the piece may have been calling to you to write a story though rather than a poem, just my suspicion, so it wound up being a bit in the middle.
I like the notion of that title paired with the ordinary things of the early stanzas. I love that kind of stuff. :) I thought rather than commenting further I'd just show you how I think you can make this one work as a poem. I hope it's helpful.
We sit taking note
of the spin, the washing
stuck in another cycle
while we listen
to the tumbling
dryer, a radio announcing
the buildup of traffic
then we slowly grind
to a halt.
Outside dusk wisps ashore
while the sea rolls gently out.
The last minute sun carves
shadows into our coastline.
Inside we swim across parquet
floors searching for memories, skirting boards, looking inside
the cracks and crannies
even under the worn welcome mat.
We strain, reaching hands high,
checking cupboards and shelves
looking for celluloid
to bind our hearts.
Quick strokes through family
albums in search of a face,
a smile, a cool green summer afternoon.
We plunge into the gloaming
attic, swimming through the hulk
and seaweed of home footage.
Failing to find clues
we search the darkest seabeds
at the bottom of our minds
disturbing the sediments
finding nothing.
Thanks for the comment and the helpful feedback. i know you don't have much access to the net these days so no worries.
I like the changes you made to it and giving more purpose to it by linking it more to swimming and the sea. I like that.
But I can't copy this now can I so it's back to some more editing for me.
Post a Comment