There are no clouds in the cobalt sky,
no silence underneath.
Instead a mass of words, words, words;
a cacophony of human voices
clamouring like restless birds.
And the words truly mean as little
as the shifting of shadows on a sundial,
silent under the sun.
Here under the open sky
words, like time, are hollow;
nothing more and nothing less
than the rustlings of brittle leaves
fallen from a red-gold tree in autumn.
Author notes
Pandorea-Amaranthine Lover
A contest entry
- Shrt nvt nly by cadaver mentality.
1550 points, ended December 18, 2008, 3 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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reason for removal:
- Please, if it's already won bronze or more, consider not entering it. It's not fair to everyone else. -
words...i remember when words just seen to stand still in time. great poem; being short it really works!! and thanlyou so much for your comment on mine (hugs) xx
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perspicuous
I like how you have compared the humanness of language to the raucous voices of birds. I think that sometimes too. (I have bird feeders.)
The shadows on a sundial, hours, and the leaves of autumn, a year. Ever?I In the end I believe you are correct in assuming that all is for naught in the human endeavor but your words have meaning to some now and that should be enough. caw . camen -
This is an interesting write, its a hard criteria to write to but you have done a great job! good luck =]
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Thank you for entering.
I will reserve comments until contest is closed. camen
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I read this poem swiftly, as if there was a brisk wind blowing. Don't know why I did that but it surely made for some wonderful reading. Your muse is right on the mark here poet. I have heard these "voices" you speak of.
"words, like time, are hollow;"
Excellent visuals chalked here! The best to you in the challenge.
Much Love ♥
Renee
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