Metaphorically Speaking – #DVersePoets

You with your oak bark hands

planted on the bank

just before the hill drop

to what is now town.

 

I could see worlds

still turning in your memory,

as if the clock stopped

in a hundred different places.

 

I even recognise a few

of the people caught here

in this last place of green

before the concrete and brick.

 

It is a cruelty to take you

from this bank above town.

It is crueller still to take all this

away.

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My mother thinks I should try to write some less heavy poems, and I have been trying, but they all seem to twist into the shadows.

17 Comments

    1. Where I live at the moment is expanding at such a rate that I half wonder if one day I just won’t recognise it. There’s an importance to open green spaces that isn’t really recognised anymore.

  1. Another stunning, sad poem, Carol! The lines that called out to me loudly are:
    ‘I could see worlds
    still turning in your memory,
    as if the clock stopped
    in a hundred different places.’
    Heart-breaking!

  2. A muscular message that resonates with all of us. I have lived over 30 years in the same place, and nearly all the open, green spaces and farms are gone now, replaced by identical ticky-tacky towers of condos and apartments. It hurts my eyes and heart, and clogs the streets with commuter traffic.

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