dirt
on this day when
…….nothing
is as it should be
i sit beneath
…….this tree
…….watching pinecones fall
…….and birdsong bury
it’s all too pretty
…….too perfect
…….too much
…….
…….i dig my hands
…….bare
…….into earth
…….filled with root
…….and worm
…….to remind myself
……………this tree
……………this bird
…….of the accidental
…….vagaries of truth
……………that lie just
……………beneath the surface
.
.
.
April 18th, 2012 at 8:46 am
Just below the surface; so simple. I keep reading this one aloud; the words blend and sing.
April 18th, 2012 at 11:08 am
Those vagaries are such rich territory for exploration in poetry; I love where you went with this.
April 18th, 2012 at 4:23 pm
Beautiful….
High five,
xo jj
April 18th, 2012 at 4:25 pm
.of the accidental
…….vagaries of truth
……………that lie just
……………beneath the surface…..love this! Well done !
April 18th, 2012 at 7:25 pm
* oh, sigh *
April 18th, 2012 at 9:29 pm
love that line “the accidental vagaries of truth”….
April 19th, 2012 at 8:48 pm
vagaries. i love that word – just beneath the surface or no.
April 20th, 2012 at 4:01 pm
This is so powerful, especially “it’s all too pretty too perfect too much” and “the accidental vagaries of truth that lie just beneath the surface.”
May 24th, 2012 at 7:27 pm
Everything you write is amazing. You write as well as anyone I’ve ever read. I could comment on every post, say “Wow, this is great!”, because it is great, but then you might read all those comments, and that’s time you could be doing what you do. Thanks for all of it!