Brother Saguaro
lives all alone on a farm
on the crest of a hill.
The wind whispers still,
soft spoken memories,
laughter that lingers to drift
on the crest of a breeze
that slides through the trees
that grow in the valley,
long overlooked by the home
that he built for them all
before the fall.
A lonely stone garden,
markers of rock to remind,
all the names of the lost,
the cold morning's frost,
reflections of grey light,
clinging to stone
like the letters of names
that call out like blame.
Soft sighing morning
walking through gardens
that once bore the fruit of his love
like heaven above.
The echoes of whispers
dance on the wind, turn and spin,
touch the ear and then die.
The evening sky,
bearing no welcome,
the end of the day,
to the house made of stone.
Forever alone.
Out in the garden,
the voice of his dead calling out,
beckoning from the grave,
calling as to a slave.
Pale in the midnight,
moon up above, baleful eye,
watchful presence above.
The memory of love
has long been forgotten,
left in the dust, rotting now,
with the bones of them all.
Beckon the call.
Reach for the answer,
pick up the gun that is lain
every night by the bed.
The rest of the dead.
A contest entry
- Stun me. by heavenbird.
590 points, ended December 5, 2008, 26 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - A Grand Farewell to All Poetry by Great Cthulhu.
1735 points, ended December 27, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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Excellent
A most intriguing write, indeed. You have expressed your thoughts quite well. Thanks for sharing this one with us. -
Holy Cow!
Where do I begin??? This is a wondrous collection of dark, dreary imagery that begs and begs to be read and reread! Well done, kind poet! This is my favorite stanza, gives me shivers!! "The echoes of whispers
dance on the wind, turn and spin,
touch the ear and then die."
Thanks for entering and good luck in the contest!
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well now...this is quite different from the first time I read it...I must say, the additions add more depth to it. I like this version better. Again, exceptional writing my friend.
Rory -
I really like the form of this poem.
It's beautifully chilling.
best of luck!
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Your piece has a sad note to it. I hate for anyone to be alone. Your poem touched a special place in my heart. Thank you for sharing it with me.
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Wow! Extremely detailed! My favorite lines were:
laughter that lingers to drift
on the crest of a breeze
that slides through the trees
-------------------------------------------
I would say that that is very correct, because in everything that I have read/watched, laughter is always heard. I really liked the imagry (sp?) in this piece! Thanks for sharring it with us.
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this is great i really didn't know where it was going. the last few lines are amazing! its a very powerful write. i really enjoyed reading this.
your Faerie
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love the subtle rhyming in this, and the concluding line. Excellent write!
Rory
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Thanks for the kind review. I added to this and was wondering if you'd take a look when yu get the chance and tell me what you think.
Thanks,
S
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Excellent Rhyme
I've run hundreds of miles along backcountry trails and through the desert wastes. I've seen the sights that tell the tale of the endless loss of life. I'm reminded in your fabulous poem of the little girls horn left lying in the sand just outside of her forgotten rotten home and the way that the sun preserves the souls etched in stone.
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Beautiful
portrait of the forsaken desert scape. The gentle rhyme adds form and rhythm to the free movement. Very well done!
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