a driftwood log
in a shallow stream,
man takes it home;
even in the stream,
sheltering crayfish, minnows;
he felt something.
Wood dried
called again,
with creative purpose;
they communed, the knothole feathers,
swirled grain of eyes;
wonderful missing branch head.
After the conversation ended
I saw the log again,
in the museum,
sculpture a proud Amerind ,
head dress of a chief;
and a face I would follow.
A contest entry
- Seascape Series: Driftwood by Nicolette.
450 points, ended July 4, 2007, 9 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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very nice poem
keep it up.
Amber -
beautifully nostalgic
absolutely sublime!
I love the descriptions (especially that of the knothole)and the timeless quality that you have captured... wonderful!
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A lovely reflective quality about this poem...a process from a piece of driftwood to a proud sculpture. Made me think of the wooden sculptures one finds in Zimbabwe and the way they give life back to a dead piece of wood. Lovely poetry.
Thank you for posting it in my contest.
~ Nicolette
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very interesting and very nice. i saw totem pole..if thats even how you spell it. i dont know why, maybe its indian, that too - i dont know. i should know though...which makes me want to go out and read up on it. so, with that said, this was educational and or inspiring...both very reflective of the poem itself - i do believe.
good luck. enjoyed.
blu
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Beautiful imagery! I once saw a carving similar to what you describe. It was amazing! The artist that can take a plain piece of wood...see a vision...mold it with his hands...and turn it into a work of powerful art is a true gift. Thank you for the gift of a fond memory.
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An Excellent Poem !!
Beautifully written. You have painted some wonderful images with your words. Really well done. xx
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