The bright morning air tasted like snow
as we slacked the chains and frozen straps to unbridle our load:
spruce, pine and fir;
piled on the back of the back of the old truck,
waiting to become someones home.
Into the hull of a half built bungalow
we haul wide planks of spruce;
the white grain and black knots
to be hidden from daylight
by gyproc and plaster
for many a year to come:
selflessly, forgotten,
each one doing his humble part
to hold up the whole.
In we go with red pine-
its grain as lovely and pink as fresh salmon,
as pleasant to hold in the hands
as the frame of a woman.
Hyperactive ants
sleep beneath the snows-
unaware
that our "higher designs" never sleep.
We are skittish dear
foraging apples at dawn in a fallow orchard.
We are the bees of winter-
happy to work for a sip of nectar
and a cup filled to the brim
with sunshine.
Author notes
02-28-08; yesterday
In a list
A contest entry
- 5000 points winner takes all. Easy stuff. by Nogod.
5000 points, ended March 3, 2008, 24 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Any tips on punctuation?
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I love this! I admire people who can write in metaphors like you have done in the last two stanzas... great immagery through out. To me, this is a good example of a poem that shows, not tells
Good luck in the contest.
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I really like this...so different and really great imagery...
puncuation??..let's see..
"In we go with red pine-
it's grain as lovely and pink as fresh salmon,
it's should be its there...
and that's all I could find...
a very enjoyable poem..I liked these lines:
"In we go with red pine-
it's grain as lovely and pink as fresh salmon,
as pleasant to hold in the hands
as the frame of a woman."
I think you use 'as' too much, though..
perhaps:
In we go with red pine-
its grain, lovely and pink as fresh salmon;
pleasant to hold in our hands
like the frame of a woman.
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Thank you four your very positive comments. I've corrected "its" and am giving thought to your other suggestion as to the word "as". All the "little words" haunt me when trying to write poetry. It's always like having a new suit to wear but never being quite sure what to do with the buttons...a bit sad, really.
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great imagery
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Lots of metaphors here in these lines, Sounds like winter chores are nearly over, and spring sill soon be sprung.
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