He feels the soil beneath his boots,
and knows there will be road.
The wet soil will be piled to no end
and paved and repaved
and painted and driven
and worn and torn
and left for one car
to ride it's stretch without
wondering what it could've been.
He feels the footprints of tractors.
He knows the consistency of the soil
(beneath his fingertips)
and dreams of luxurious green.
Wrapping arms cross each other
in an embrace only a forest might
agree to.
The flowers would grow
between his toes.
The sun would rain through
his gray beard.
The soil would perk to see
him again
after all the years of longing.
He smells the soil
damp from an absent storm.
Fertile bellied molecules screaming
to be seeded
and he without growth to give them.
He pictures
a burnt sun painting
the canvas of the land
with stalks, and crops,
and sprouts, and mounds
all primed for a feast
with only one guest.
A contest entry
- Life Poetry 101 by Dalaney.
1000 points, ended September 19, 2008, 17 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 8 of 8
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This is a very well written poem !! well done indeed
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Congratulations on your silver.
Well, well written poem.
Buddy -
You know, the first stanza alone was gold/silver...
whatever. lol. Excellent, excellent. I loved this.
Congratulations hon.
Kathleen
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it is so very good to read this. To read you. I was hoping you would get to the contest on time. Thank you so much for not disappointing me, for giving me a wonderful write to read. Love, Lane
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Thank you so much for the trophy!
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Eloquent and beautiful until the last verse. I would have stopped it at the end of ...with only one guest.
BUt hey, who am I? Not one who could have written verses one through three.
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the furrows of endless time
lead but to a small 3X2X6 foot plot
which feeds the worms
and nourishes the future
from the spoils of the past.
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this is very good. it sounds very thoughtful. i wish you the best in the contest
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