I have never liked the way rust feels against the skin.
Shards of old paint curling and collapsing
beneath the press of tiny, grubby fingers
as the latch on the gate fights to remain shut,
last weeks rain, too much for something so old
to face without a little protest.
The tiny flakes that stay behind,
stuck into the sweat and the mud,
too small and sharp to brush off all together
no matter how many times hands are scrubbed
against dirt stained jeans with patches at the knees
or run across the grain of old fence posts
that dot the garden paths and always lead
back home.
Carol J Forrester 
Great job, Carol. This is something I’ve experienced and you capture it so well.
Thank you Victoria. I think it’s a pretty common experience, but it was something from my childhood that really stuck with me, especially as my parents were big on ‘go and play outside’ and we had this huge garden.
I think looking for those everyday experiences, the details and visualize them is what it’s all about.. Actually the length makes it so good when you have those nasty little flakes..
Haha, those nasty little flakes indeed. It’s weird, but my palms sort of itch after writing this.
So many have experienced that yucky texture on the skin. You brought it right back. Very effective writing!
Thank you. 🙂
You’re welcome!
Really well captured! I am impressed 🙂
Thank you. 🙂
Oh, the images in your poem are so strong I can almost feel the rust on my fingers. I like that you found something so unusual but yet so ordinary to write about.
Those nasty little flakes – my hands felt those icky flakes and the itch again. I like the way this takes such a common thing and changes it into something extraordinary and universal.
My hands started to itch after I wrote it.
Mine too!
I too like that you took such a mundane (but annoying) occurrence and wrote what we’ve all experienced about it…your images are clearly captured and presented beautifully.
Thank you.
Rust put me in mind of Joan Baez’s Diamonds and Rust. It was her 75th birthday yesterday. Rust that sticks and diamonds that shine – forever objects. Here it becomes a touchstone to childhood – to gardens that seem the size of a continent to a child, and equally exotic. This is laced with so much texture and tactile references that it really does “get under your skin”.
Thank you.
Thank you for the lovely comment. I think the point of poetry is to get under the skin to a certain extent so I’m very happy to hear that you think I achieved that.
Also wondering if perchance you have trouble commenting on my blog…as it is a Blogger blog. Curious.
Not trouble, it’s more a nuisance since I have to select who I want to comment as, and then sign into my word press account before I can post a comment.
I did read and enjoy your post though.
Such a common thing, captured so well. Love this.
Thank you. I’m enjoying taking the common and writing something not-so-comment at the moment.
This reminds me of a childhood experience come to life
It very much was a childhood experience.
love how you started with rust, but ended up with a line of fence posts that lead home.
Thank you, I was wondering if the last line seemed out of place so I’m glad you liked it.
You went from a topic of discomfort to a place of comfort…worked for me 🙂
Rust …something so overlooked and semi-annoying, but you have given it a purpose…if only for sentimental memories. I can feel the story behind the rust.
I find the annoying things often remind us of the past the most. They stick in our brains.
This one is brilliant brings back so many emotions.
Thank you. It was really fun to write and reminded me that I don’t get out enough now I’m older.
Ah, this is so evocative of childhood experiences with rust..its color and how it sticks with you…reminds me of the feel of nails on a chalkboard. In this case, the length is absolutely fitting.
Thank you. I was a little concerned when I read some of the others that mine was a bit long but I didn’t think it worked as well shorter.
love this ordinary rust-experience achieving a great poetic height…very evocative…
Thank you. For some reason the memory of it on my skin has really stuck with me.
Excellent description here….I can feel it, I can see it. I’ve experienced this — getting that red rust dust on your hands…..but I always then got red stains on my clothes, which my mother wasn’t too happy about! 🙂
Thanks for the memories here…….really really enjoyed this one!
I’m glad. Rust always had a way of smearing onto everything.
Intricate attention to detail renders vivid imagery. Excellent.
Thank you. I’ve been enjoying working from my own memories recently.
As you describe the rust, the whole is amplified.
A delightful summary of the process of oxydation.
Thank you. 🙂
Rusty memories of paint
peeling off aluminum
anything.. scrape
paint.. and
peel again..
cycles
human
made
entropies..
rust or not..:)
…. too much for something so old ….. this made the image even clearer.
Nicely done/