A new year begins! But before we start anew, we would like you to write an “Ending” poem. We have to end before we begin!
Marie’s Ending:
Crash and Burn
The deadline came,
The deadline went.
I did not dig,
Nor make a dent.
And though I had
Sincere intent,
My chapbook bombed,
To my lament.
The End.
Walt’s Finish:
Hard Wood
A carpenter mistakenly
Drank some varnish.
He had a terrible end,
But a beautiful finish!
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
http://rinklyrimes.blogspot.com/2012/01/ending.html
An unusual topic for the beginning of the year but, as you say, every ending is a beginning.
Lovely poem.
Really enjoyed this look at the end.
Terrific poem, as is the one that follows. I left a longer comment on your blog.
Walt!! You got the first laugh out of me this morning!! Love that, beautiful finish! 🙂
I’ m sure your collection will be perfectly content to rest a while, he/she understands how good and busy you’ve been with all of your awesome family. There’s always next time! Smiles to you!
~LAST DANCE~
When last melodic notes resound
They hang on silent air, drifting gracefully
Like so many brilliant white snowflakes.
Ancient flame flickers purposefully,
Dancing amid ashes, holding heat hopefully.
Tree looses leaf to bite of Autumn breeze
Sent swirling, red against dramatic gray.
Lingering lucid moment before departing,
Dreamscape wrestles with reality.
Each instance, a passionate tango with invisible time.
Oh, so deeply, heartbreakingly (as Truth often does), beautiful, Hannah!!! Hen
Thank you so much, Hen!! 🙂
enjoy the sense of in-between – lucid and lingering like a dream – lovely
So glad you liked it, Jane!! 🙂
I always enjoy reading your poems. Always beautifully written.
Linda!! You make my heart smile! 🙂
The truth expressed so well, lovely.
I appreciate that, Kelly!
Hard to top what everyone else has said. Such a beautiful poem!
Thank you so much, Mary!!
Wonderful tango of a poem, Hannah. I enjoyed your use of such transient objects (the snowflake, the falling leaf, the dying fire) to convey meaning.
Thank you so much for your comment, Traci! 🙂
You have a magical way with words, Hannah, beautiful.
Right in the heart-string, Happy, you got me with magical. Thank you!
‘dreamscape wrestles with reality’ love that line. this poem is pure art! thank-you for sharing your perspective so wonderfully!
Janet! Thank you for your generous comment! So humbled to be among you all. 🙂
Great imagery and description, Hannah. My dreamscape is always wrestling with my reality; the two just refuse to get along! 🙂
Yes, we are poets…..dreamers by nature….. sometimes a bit difficult to keep our feet planted firmly on solid Earth.
Yes, we live in an ethereal place, Hen! 🙂
Hi, up there and glad you could relate and enjoyed this one mikeMaher! The matrix wouldn’t let me post this in the proper place. Thank you! 🙂
Lovely word, ‘ethereal’; it brings to mind a lovely body of water shrouded in a misty fog…..
From the End to the Beginning
Mary Belle enjoyed life
for 100 years and sixteen days.
Then said good bye
to earth’s crust
on Christmas Day.
Began her forever life
as her family played
the recorded song,
“As the Saints Go
Marching In.”
What a perfect send-off!
Yes, sweetly.
the specificity in this in endearing
Thanks for the comments, you all.
Fantastic title, Sally; really conveys your message beautifully. And the poem itself – I can only pray my homegoing is as jubilant. 🙂
Don’t we all, Traci!
Indeed! and what we each hope for!
Walt, I LOL’d, then read deeper….. Marie, you have lovingly tended to your family…..the Chapbook can just wait….. Hen
Before every new
beginning, an old song ends.
Its cadence does not.
AMEN! Exactly! You can’t have the new till you lay down the old.
Succinct and so true, Henrietta. Even when a song ends, it keeps playing in our minds and hearts. Sometimes that’s a blessing, sometimes not.
Yes, I usually have trouble figuring out which is which….. Thank you, Traci. Hen
The end of the affair:
he married someone else,
happy never after.
harsh endings live on too – said well
I so liked this!
…..life can be very painful at times…..
Ah, Viv, you speak much truth in these few lines.
Very well put!
good point…lest we forget, there are two kinds of endings!
Alas, the chapbook. Dreadful things, M.E.
Windy morning here in Nashville, but bright as all get-out. Happy New Year, y’all.
Poem to Finish off With
Writing on an iPad grown strangely slow,
I imagine the fault is mine. My habits are bad children,
coming home as sloppy and unwilling to do the chores
as they were when they started sleeping around and
sending home post cards postmarked
who-knows-where, Texas
and flyspeck, Alaska. But with pictures of fame and respect.
Could I read this retrospect into a recorder and give it sonorous importance?
Do I dare to eat a mango, diced, beside sweet sticky rice? Since last year
at this time, I’ve one less gall bladder to my name. The therapy of
exercise was no help to my joints, but staved off the fangs of depression.
It curls around my ankles, begging to be fed, though. One day,
when my attention lapses, it will bring me down again. Then it will crack
the skull, and lap my brain like mango mushed with cream.
The end
Fight it off, Barbara. You can’t go wrong with mango with anything!
I went almost sixty years without having tasted them. Once there, the flavor stays with you.
Wow, I loved this, Barbara, I felt it deeply…..hang in there.
Barb, go for the mango. Its sunny flavor will back off that dog of depression for sure.
I don’t have kids, but I have a friend with four, and three are in their 20s. Her mother has Alzheimer’s and has to be put in a nursing home (she may have already; I’m not sure). Then there’s all the changes a woman goes through in her 50s.
Knowing what she’s going through, I can empathize with the emotions here. Excellent poem.
Yes, sometimes it snows a Blizzard, and the only thing that we can do is grab the shovel and keep moving forward throwing it outa the way of our good path!!! (it just started snowing here in Dayton, Ohio) Hen
you two make me smile
while I think of what may be a new ending.
Ode to Celebration in Retirement Home
our new year’s eve
ended at nine ~ unamused
by cheers,or lifting up
another glass of sparking juice~
so the others thought
while we caught
and held the gleam
of eye to eye and time
Oh wow! A well drawn poem. We went to a wrinklies party last night (probably as the oldest there) and it was pretty lively.
Great ending! I hope I still have a gleam in my eye when/if I ever find myself living in a retirement home. 🙂
Happy New Year all!
Endings before Beginnings
My wife will often read the end of books
To make sure she likes the way it ends
Before committing time to the story.
Often we wish the same option for life,
Wishing to know the outcome before beginning;
Relationships, jobs, school, pregnancies.
How truly sad would life be if this could happen –
True, we would avert tragedy and heartbreak,
And mistakes could be avoided in advance,
But how much more would we tragically miss?
Treasured memories never to be made,
Needed life lessons never learned,
Joys and blessings never born.
Let us forego scrying in the crystal ball,
Leave the fortune tellers alone in their stall,
Live and learn and love along the way
Letting our story play out as it will and
Only at New Years putting our
Endings before beginnings.
This is so true, Love it!
Wonderful reminder as we venture into the new year.
Lovely, Mark…..it echos my newest book: “Dear Me”, by Warren Hanson, a short, sweet, interesting read. Happy New Year to you and yours!
Excellent poem, Mark. I so agree.
Very well stated! I’ve done what your wife does. Time is too valuable to ‘waste’ on a flat ending, BUT it also steals some of the allure…thus it would be with life. The allure is surely in the mystery! Thank-you. I really enjoyed this.
[…] to Poetic Bloomings and dVerse Poets […]
Repeat Performance
We can’t go back, but if we could,
what would we do with the days?
Pick up the phone, write the note
or remain as we have always?
We can’t go back, but if we could
what would we do with the time?
Lend a hand, do the small deed
or only see our hill to climb?
We can’t go back, but if we could
what would we do with the year?
Reach out more, make each moment count?
We might not change much, I fear.
…..I wonder…..thank you for this.
Kelly, you make an honest assessment in this one; similar thoughts were what led to my poem New Year. Well written; thanks for sharing it.
Poignant thoughts to ponder…and I fear your last line would be correct.
Thank-you for sharing this lovely gem.
Your conclusion is, I fear, only too valid. I like this poem very much.
Midnight Kiss
File away the memories
while racing down the road.
The gift of yet another year,
for all has been bestowed.
Turn the page from December
to January one.
An ending to eleven
means twelve has now begun.
Count the days and find new ways
to shed all earthly sorrows.
Learn from the past. Live for today.
Plan for your tomorrows.
Close the book on years gone by.
Look ahead on bliss.
End one then start another
with a tender midnight kiss.
By Michael Grove
Lovely end and look ahead!
…..such warm, tender sweetness, Michael.
Wonderfully encouraging poem, Michael. Even if I didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight. 😉
I wasn’t awake at midnight, but this poem makes me wish I had been! Very sweetly poemed, Mike.
This IS the key to happiness in the moment. I like the end:)
thank-you.
Thank You all and Happy New Year Everyone!!!
lovely positive thoughts.
Still smiling over your poem, Walt. sooo clever.
Marie, You have given us all many chapbooks of beauty throughout the year.
Happy new year! And thanks for all your fun prompts!
Both were definitely fun reads! Thanks so much – and Happy New Year! ♥
Fallout
Accusatory bombshells
Tossed into the chasm
Separating us.
Explosions shatter
What peace remained.
Fragmented slivers
Slice love into hate,
Widening the breach,
Creating a distance
No bridge could ever span.
Oh, so painfully true…..until one of them gets ill…..then the other becomes a Master bridge builder, with help from Above…
Such a heartwrenching and all-too-often true poem. As Henrietta said, God can bridge that chasm, but we have to be willing to let Him.
Marie Elena I feel your pain specifically having revisited the same undone chapbook for the 2nd (maybe 3rd) year in a row … don’t ask – but, have Sage Cohen’s “Writing the Life Poetic” firmly in hand (a Christmas gift) and ideas galore about finishing so … maybe next year …
And Walt, I’m with Hannah – my first real laugh out loud moment of the new year thanks to you!
Here’s an End.
It was at the end that someone climbed onto the roof
and dangled the wrapped-in-christmas-lights ball
above the gathering crowd,
and it was as they were raising the lit-up ball
back up to the roof that I was already inside
thinking about the dream I had where I was arrested
for doing things an awake me would surely never do.
Right?
Are you all right? Joe says
and then We should make a TV show
and then Did you see the sweater that guy was wearing?
I have knelt in the snow and contemplated the end
but not today, it being too warm and all.
Almost beloved, where have you gone now,
lost inside another unanswered text message?
When it was time for another end
we weren’t sure where it was we were going next
but we could probably get hot dogs, even some wrapped in bacon,
and someone said not to look back, same as Hades.
Of course we all did but said we didn’t.
Of course we asked about the flaming river.
Of course someone, after too many drinks that taste like Christmas trees,
rode the ball back up to the roof.
Yes, it is time to go or at least to take a step forward.
I am the ceramic blue jay and this is my song.
I am the roller coaster and this is where I keep my wolf puppy hearts.
That must have been some party! There’s a very dreamlike quality to your poem, Mike, and not just because you mentioned dreaming in it. The jump from image to image reminded me of what goes on in my head while I’m asleep. 🙂
Thanks,Traci. As a self-described surrealist poet, that is usually the feeling I am going for. That, or falling down the stairs. 🙂
Ah Mike – this takes me back – and forward – and back again – well put … a poem of wonder.
Endings
Fairy tales had happy endings
when I was a child. As applied
to life, dark storms raged,
but like turning the page,
I’d peek out between
the slats my fingers formed
waiting for the palest pink
to appear and turn the sky
and my world rainbow bright.
As I grew, I developed a passion
for arty films, people smoking
in hazes of black and white,
followed by endings that
appeared as a mysterious
stranger speaking a foreign
language, incomprehensible,
to me, yet I knew instinctively,
to be sad.
As I grow older and closer to my
own ending, I find laughter
and warmth my cosy
fireplace setting, in a mind
that has seen, and ears
that have heard, too many
tragedies, endings
that arrived far too soon.
Hugs and funny faces
are my fuel to make
tomorrow run.
Yes, Sara, lovely ending…..(oh, and now would be a good time to have one of those cookies!) Hen
I like your ending, Sara. I want that ending, those hugs and funny faces to fuel my tomorrows. This poem sounded so much like my life it’s uncanny. I went from fairy tales to brooding cynicism, and now I’ve arrived back at bright hope, tempered with the sadness I’ve seen. You portrayed that journey perfectly.
Yes, we cling to the hope of present moments, not peering into the future or past, as we get older…I really enjoyed this. thank-you.
Thank you so much, Hen, Traci and Janet. I truly appreciate your replies.
Sara
A very nice progression that elaborates on live and learn.
Thanks, Mike!
“I’d peek out between the slats my fingers formed” – I still do this! And your poem evolves beautifully throughout, as others have said, ending on the perfect note … nicely done – a well-told journey.
Thanks, Sharon!
My thanks to Paula (pmwanken) for steering me this way; it’s been a while since I visited. “Crash and Burn” sounds like the nightmare of every writer seeking publication, and what can I say about “Hard Wood”? I love your sense of humor, Walt!
Here’s the link to my poem about endings and beginnings: New Year
Liked your New Year. Would that we all would decide to get rid of useless motion!
Yay! Good to see you here, Traci! 🙂
Oh yes, Traci, good words for the New Year!
Welcome! And yes, thank you Paula!
Marie, at least you started…I did not even do that!
Walt, when I need to laugh I look for your words. Truly clever. Oh, I like it! Now I need to contemplate Endings! This is one of my favorite quotes. It helps me let go!
Janet, your comment prompted me to go back to the top of the post to see the quote again after reading all these great poems. It also reminded me of one of my favorite quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson:
“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day,
you shall begin it well and serenely.”
Traci, I’ve never read that quote before. Beautiful, Thank-you.
Ahh, I needed to read Emerson’s words this day!!! Thank you, Traci!
Well, I am attempting to get back on the poetry wagon this year… my goal is to write at least 1 poem/week. Any encouragement welcome!
THE END?
Some stories die, but
new ones always take their place:
keep moving forward.
Ok I posted too soon. Should read as follows:
THE END?
Some stories die, but
new ones always bloom instead:
keep driving forward.
Great start, Elizabeth!
Enjoyed reading both!
So, see, you’ve got two weeks completed already!
EJ, Encouragement always provided, but you are a better poet that you’l lay claim to. You are always welcome and we look forward to your continued contributions.
Thanks guys! By the way, Walt, I loved yours 🙂
Having just recently climbed back on the poetry wagon myself Elizabeth, wanted to throw you a welcome and say I agree – you are a better poet than you will lay claim to being but – when you’ve fallen off the creativity wagon/boat/train – I feel your pain or misgivings or whatever and so I’m joining the chorus of encouragers to wish you good poeming (not a real word, I know – but it fits the bill here) and perseverance along with me and the rest! Phew – got that out … happy New Year and see your around the poetry sites …
Poetry has soothed my soul for many, many years now…..please keep writing, Elizabeth.
Words do not end silences
Honesty will
Having does not end yearning
Love will
Walking away does not end grudges
Forgiveness will
Knowing does not end learning
Ignorance will
Growing does not end childhood
Maturity will
Sight does not end blindness
Acceptance will
Morning does not end darkness
God will
Oh, beautiful, Janet!!!
Agree, beautiful!
Triple the accolades…this is a wonderful piece!
Thank-you:)
This is a very special poem. I love it.
Like this very much, Janet.
Thank-you Mike and Mike:)
You are very kind.
Very insightful!
You do have a wonderful way with words Janet – well-said.
I can think of no better advice. Nicely done!
‘Pessimist versus Optimist’
As you know, Earth is round, my friend,
In life’s race ‘start’ and ‘finish’ do blend,
As we all keep on spinning,
What you see as the beginning,
Is undoubtedly, sadly, the end.
Yes, I know, Earth is round, my friend,
But, please try (won’t you?) to comprehend,
As we all keep on spinning –
Here is where you start grinning –
The beginning’s what sprouts from the end!
Very nice. Thanks for the encouragement to be the optimist this year!
Thank you! I’m going to try to be one, too.
Love your perspective on this… especially liking the first line. Great job!
Thank you! 🙂
What an incredibly hopeful poem!
I’m so glad!
The circle of life…. well spoken!
Thank you, Hen!
Endings
Endings of meals
mean desserts on the way and satiation a step away.
Endings of books
bring a sigh of regret for severed relationships, but new ones `round the bend.
Endings of years
are bittersweet–anxiety of unknown events, yet secret shivers of anticipation.
Bravo!
Just began a new book and can’t wait til the end. The Drop by Michael Connelly.
See ya.
Thanks, Benjamin. Coincidentally, The Drop is next on my list. Love Connelly.
I love the ‘secret shivers!’ Enjoyed your poem a lot, thank you.
Oh, yesiree (from an eternal Optimist)!!! Especially loved this one, Sara!
Ahh, ending of books. Such a bittersweet ending!
Thanks so much, Hap, Hen, Benjamin, and Mike. Your words are dear to me.
Sara
Hi everybody!
Walt: Loved your poem! Short, sweet and creative.
Marie Elena: Enjoyed your poetic spirit as well.
Benjamin
The End of Ends
The end of ends
for which all time is cast…
A prayer and a blessing
for those who’ve breathed their last–
Rest in peace.
*This poem is dedicated to all those who have passed before the new year of 2012.
Ohhhh, how kind of you to send this out….. thank you from those of us who lost someone.
Memories are what we leave behind
A setting sun, into the western sea
A glittering path across the waves
Should lead into eternity.
But in our hearts we know
That sparkling glory and golden after- glow
Will rise again tomorrow and the scene will show
The same broad band of colors, shining bright
across the waters from morning until night
When we cut away the tethers we have bound
Stealing away such mercies we may have found
Sunlight slips away but will soon enough return
all new and shining – that lesson we have learned
We are the ones who are forever doomed
to disappear abruptly and much too soon
Our last words not always what we choose to hear
when all eternity will leave its echoes in our ear
So when we leave could we manage one small smile
that lingers like the sunset’s path for just a little while.
Oh, touchingly beautiful!
Thank you for this, Marian, you talk about passing without a touch of morbidity. Your poem is full of quiet wisdom and light.
This is very well written in an interesting form. I appreciate these words.
Marian, what a beautifully worded poem.
Cut-String Kite
bright colors dance
across the endless blue stage
swooping, spinning
seeming blissfully free
yet
nearly invisible is the tether
to the one who controls
the dipping and diving
with tugs and slack
what would happen
if that line was broken?
would the dancing cease
or
would the dancer
begin to find her own path,
to reach the highest skies?
one thing is certain
there can be no beginning
until
the line is cut
and the tether finds its
end.
Very nice Paula! I have often thought of kites with no string.
Oh, I just LOVE the free-floating images of your lovely rainbow kite!!!
When I said “Go Fly a Kite”, you didn’t have to take it literally! A good effort, Paula! I’ll have to dig out my piece, “Poems Are Kites” They go hand-in-hand!
Oooh, a kite floating on a poetic breeze…..lovely…..
I remember that one, Walt. A concrete … right?
Even your title is perfect!
[…] for Poetic Bloomings prompt to write an “every ending is a beginning” poem. Echo […]
I lurk no longer
invisibility ends
with my first haiku
This makes me smile!
…..sweet, little Casper…..
It happened this way for my little ghost too. Welcome!
Indeed it did, Hen!
This is a paragraph from an essay, it’s not technically a poem, but to me it feels like one, and it’s about the ending, and the beginning.
I take her hand in mine. It runs through my fingers like sand or water. I cannot hold her. She’s escaping me. She sees ghosts. She makes no sense. Then suddenly she looks straight at me, and through me, and says, “A good woman is going to have a baby.” Where does this come from? Have the angels sung this to her to lull her to sleep? Was it something her mother told her on Christmas Eve a long, long time ago? Or does she somehow know about me? I touch my stomach. Deep inside the flickering light of the new life is gathering strength. It connects to the flame fading before my eyes, and feeds on it, and passes it on.
…..yes, an essay of poetic prose, lovely; the world is a mysterious place, Happy.
Making the End a Lasting Impression
When I go I want to be remembered
He said, me too, she replied
So what should we do then
Should we get blown into the sky
Like Hunter S Thompson?
They both agreed that wasn’t them
How about donating our brains
To science then? That was a quick
Negative also
Why not try living every day now
As if it might be the last one?
They granted it was drastic
But worth a thought
Maybe it isn’t the end
That needs to be lasting
She said, maybe it’s all
That goes before
Amen, he said
The End.
S.E.Ingraham©
…..oh, yes, definitely!
Yes indeed, you nailed that one.
Amen, indeed. Thank you, Sharon!
WOW! You poets are blowing me away out here.
A hardy/hearty welcome to Rinkly Rimes, Traci B, and Gobsofstuff! Our poetic family is growing. 😀
Benjamin, so good to see you!
You and Walt are good, solid parents; great leadership starts at the top!
Amen!
Hello Everyone !
Thanks Marie Elena. I took a sabbatical for a while but it’s good to come back to the garden!
A garden can be a lovely, serene place…
Thank you. 🙂
Life’s After-glow ….I did not see Marian Veverka’s poem until now. We were thinking along the same wave-lengths tonight:)
When I shall lay me down to sleep
Forever in earth’s clutch
And all that you have left to keep
Are memories to touch
I pray that in a little while
Your tears will cease to flow
And thoughts of me will make you smile
In my life’s after-glow
Grief has a season; we must weep
And tears must have their place
But Time will heal your tender-deep
And in its soft embrace
Should thoughts of me return sometimes
Upon life’s ebb and flow
I pray that it will be a kind
And joyful after-glow
When I shall lay me down to sleep
Oh, do not weep too long
For grief is not a thing to keep
And love will make you strong
Then, in the quiet of your heart
I pray that you will know
The beauty of love’s finest art
Caught in life’s afterglow
OMG…..stunning…..beauty!!!
FILED AWAY (a triolet)
I can only look forward to 2012
2011’s filed away on 12 weighty shelves
No reflecting, regretting or delving
I can only look forward to 2012
Bright bobbles and Santas and Christmas elves
all stuffed back into the loft. And as for myself
I can only look forward to 2012
2011’s filed away on 12 weighty shelves
Nice….. may we all move forward lightly and breezily………
a comment for Janet’s poem – not sure how this is done
To Janet: Yes, the same wave-length lead us to the same inevitable ending. you handled yours in such a gentle manner, with simple words and rythm and rhyme which blended so nicely into your thoughts.
marianv
[…] for the road”; one sad, one about the work of the poet… for dverse, Sunday Scribblings, Poetic Bloomings, and Poets […]
Just when I think my inspiration is ending…
At a Loss
At a loss, plum outta new thoughts
except those that drift:
first letters, then stop-start words
weave down the path to form
phrases (stitches awkwardly
frayed, signs of wear)
When I’m at a standstill…
I think on my friends
the quirks and catch-phrases
the confidences that
make the circle ever stronger
How we shoveled the shit back in the day
I smile, pick up my pencil
and suddenly, the absentee-brainer
becomes a no-sweater
End to beginning to end
the heartbeat of the blend
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Another clever one, from a well-sharpened point!
“…..When I’m at a standstill… I think on my friends…..make the circle ever stronger…” Good words!
“and suddenly, the absentee-brainer becomes a no-sweater” – how clever is that? A very cool poem Amy and great use of the wordle words as well … a belated happy New Year!
Quit
It’s just a few weeks
off 5 years that I had my last;
the day I quit. Lit up one last
and then threw all the smoking
paraphernalia away.
And so I began counting.
First it was hours,
then days and weeks.
Suddenly it was a year,
and when it was 2,
I’d lost track of my count.
At 3 years I’d forgotten
how long that I’d quit
and at 4 years I completely
forgot the anniversary date.
And so I think it’s time to say
that this is the end of my quit
because I can’t still be quitting
what I don’t do anymore.
Health and happiness to you, I am so glad that you quit!!!
“I can’t still be quitting what I don’t do anymore.” Love it! Congratulations, Misk! My son just decided to quit. He is in his 4th day now.
My dad (a jazz drummer) quit “cold turkey” back when I was about 4 or 5 years old. To this day, he will sometimes reach into his pocket for a non-existent cigarette when he steps off the stage for a break. Talk about habit becoming a part of you!
Nobody warned me
Nobody warned me when the front door shut
a piece of me would leave as well. The rut
worn deep into my heart from long routine,
our blunted expectations, set the scene
for this unraveling. Perhaps what cut
me most was knowing I had missed a glut
of signs, had let the feeling in my gut
diminish to a whisper. What did it mean
nobody warned me?
If I had known I might have altered what
I said. Instead those icy caps that jut
above the surface chilled us with the sheen
of easy waters over pain unseen.
I could not reach you then – I would have, but
nobody warned me.
Oh, sadness…..
Such a beautiful poem. Many wonderful phrases, “icy caps that just about the surface chilled us,” “our blunted expectations,” “feeling in my gut diminished to a whisper.” So sad.
I agree. Bless your heart.
[…] week on Poetic Bloomings Marie Elena and Walt suggest we consider ends before we get stuck into beginnings. Head over to […]
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[…] Arizona More Poetic Bloomings with the theme “Every Ending Is a Beginning” here More Haiku Heights with the theme “Page” here More Straight Out of the […]
End of the Day
The bare rocky mountain glowed yellow, orange, browns,
basking in the sun like a giant prehistoric lizard,
while pines slipped into the darkness like fleeing prey.