afternoon

Asunder, the skies are broken; rain, detaching itself from black cloud, falls in silver sheets.  Fingers of sun scour through and catch on yellowing leaves, filtering, through them and through the veil of cascading water, a bronzish light.1

Below the river floods past in boiling brown flats like fresh mud, carrying with it white patches of flotsam.2

Remains of summer – sad strings which once held shining glass lanterns – drip, and fray; the jasmine which once blossomed with tender stars, is cropped and sparse.3

Only the patter of water is heard.4

But I know a place where the birds always sing.5

What did you think? Please comment!

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Comments

1 - 7 of 7

  • October 22, 2005
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    Very lovely and dreamlike imageries you have here. It was like looking at the perfect panorama. Your words are poetic and so is the feel you put on each line here.
    I have to agree with camus, this is more a poem than a story, nonetheless a very peaceful read.
    Thanks for this colorful entry!

  • franomi
    October 20, 2005
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    of course... if you want to. it's just the view out of the window.


  • Shancy Fayre
    October 19, 2005
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    Comforting

    It excites me to see how each poet expresses the same thing. You have done a lovely job with this. I found it comforting. Shancy.

  • wassermadchen
    October 19, 2005
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    This is pretty much how I feel right now. I live in the midwest, so the winters are brutal. I love the rain in autumn, but the heat is like summer's leftovers


  • camus gold member
    October 19, 2005
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    This certainly read like a poem at times with its lyrical tone and imagery. Some of your figurative language was explosive and volatile, reflecting the strength, the power of the floods. I wonder what that place in the last line was - possibly a secure place that offers you happy memories to rescue you in times of difficulty. camus


  • October 19, 2005
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    Lovely. But it is most definitely a poem rather than a story. May I promote it?

  • Bonko The Clown silver member
    October 19, 2005
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    Ah, the last line is enigmatic! Lovely imagery that evokes in me my own memories of autumns come and gone. It's beautifully written, but I'm quite intrigued by that last line. I'm tempted to say "in your head." but that is unpoetic and too simplistic I think. Quite intriguing indeed...possibly you'll tell me someday.

1 - 7 of 7