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that day remains

 

 

 

 

 
September then
stepped South for Spring,
past each equator:
the Earth's, my own.
 
A time for growth, for a weight
of dead things tallied in Winter,
to blanket cradles
of old dust and sleeping dreams.
 
then:
I thought myself among the dead,
leaf-litter, bleached and empty.
 
now:
        [ looking back ]
 
it all rises -
He had died for Me.
 
For Her.
 
To build the bed
from which
these dreams began.
 
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author notes

Word Count: 69

Edits: 3

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Comments


  • Heath Thompson
    June 6, 2008
    Edit | Reply
    This is lovely Kate! Absolutely tramples on my effort!!


  • Namita
    June 4, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    I'd change it to "from where these dreams began"... this is excellent poetry, by the way...

    Namita


  • Malabu
    May 16, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    like you said to me...you understand this poetry thing? lol...I think you do..
    shows here;

    then:
    I thought myself among the dead,
    leaf-litter, bleached and empty.

    this may be a tad bit sad...but beautifully lifting

    Mal


  • Rowan gold member
    May 6, 2008

    Edit | Reply
    Such a sad write in the beginnning, but one that ends with hope. Have I told you how smart and talented you are at this poetry-stuff? Seriously, you are.