In winter
I longed for summer
evenings of yellow wheat
set a-fire by poets’ sunsets
it blooms at last
but I squat indoors
pack lives into cardboard boxes
recycle bric a brac
for African children
while the sun goes down
over the cornfields
unnoticed.
Author notes
Inspired by 'Blending with the Wind ' by Taigu Ryokan
B u n t y P l u m c h i p
A contest entry
- Taigu Ryokan--Contest by No Quarter.
400 points, ended August 18, 5 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 11 of 11
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The contrast between our dreams and our realities. A quite well written poem with strong images of our wishes, and the stark truth of daily life. And maybe that is why we are writers, to either create those dreams, or to find the meaning of the reality.
It was a pleasure to read, thanks.
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This is wonderful poetry - I saw van Gogh's cornfields, but was most taken with 'squat' - I 'squatted' in empty houses in a green belt as a political statement, and there was something important in your image of turning away from the sunset, doing things for children somewhere else, that will surely manifest better to me.Congratulations on the gold trophy.
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Oh, my, well-deserving of Gold! Excellent images, and such a touching little story in so few words. Wonderful.
Lita
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Thank you very much!
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hmm interesting take on the prompt, nice job.
"evenings of yellow wheat
set a-fire by poets’ sunsets"
loved thos lines. thakns for entering and good luck -
Too right! How I dream of hot summer days when I can splay my pale torso out in gorgeous sunlight and feel it soak to my very bones. Then when it arrives I complain how hot it is. And look now at those dratted wrinkles krinkling eyes and nose as I squint my way from garden to flower bed and back again. And spend hours upon hours toiling nose to grindstone as summer days pass quickly by then fall back into winter.
I wish I may
I wish I might
give each day
it's rightful
moment in the sun.
Lovely written. I haven't read that which inspired this, 'Blending with the Wind', but I blend with the day and often find myself lost in it, or it lost to me.
All this chatter when all I really wished to say was... and such is the reality.
You choose your words so delicately well. I enjoyed this.
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I love this the brevity and the way you have expressed the turn of the wheel of life and season (here and far away). I love the way you have painted this poem.
Thank you for sharing it with us.
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I would love to see you use your vernacular, 'squatten' here. I really like the brevity here yet managing to include two continents, the segue from European to African is inspired, and a whole attitude. When our lives are, it must be said, somewhat spoilt we can admire and enjoy the beautiful sunsets. Those less fortunate have to endure it. A great write and a welcome return, with a new name.
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Thanks for a fantastic comment Andrew.
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I'd say it comes and I squat or it came and I squatted - but irregardless, the imagery is nice and I am drawn into the homey appeal with the soft Van Gogh colors of cornfields and yellow wheat,
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Thanks ea- squat is a funny irregular to decline in dialect vernacular here it is probably 'squatten ' in the past tense in some local villages- I altered the line to get around it because 'squatted' is just a bit too awkward. I always think in yellow when August arrives, dont mean to but somehow it just happens.
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