The harsh and finding pockets

“The harsh and finding pockets” wraps its way around a prompt from “We drink because we’re poets”, in terms of nature for me is about life between the harsh, and the refuge, maybe it’s even a little connected to human nature, but I think it’s best to let you decide. Go check out the prompt below if you like, I was suppose to stop at thirteen words or syllables per line, but drifted a little further to windward. Have a good week!

WDBWP: Monday Poetry Prompt #21: Fibonacci Poetry and thePrompt: Using the Fibonacci form, write a poem about what Nature means to You.  For you artists out there, feel free to elaborate with a work of art. 

a river basin

Out

Back

People roam

Across the vast land

Where the red dirt, the dust drifts

Waiting on the first storms to wake wide the flat

Rivers of forgotten times when amber flowed as the sap of forests once

Now long gone as time laid to rest in the places cast in sandstone, iron, and nickle, between pockets water, and outland forest traces hidden

Lush to the senses, touch, breathe, colours escape upon every angle to listen as the wild finds refuges from out in the harsh heat riving red earth where their ancestors bones bleach dry beneath one

In all moments, an untethered,  unweeping sun to the passing of time in lifes’ stricken moments of natures parched throat, wanting, seeking to dry out what remains in the shadows of the lost small worlds, these natural escapes of beauty, and wonder, just waiting for the known, unknown stranger, on their quest  beyond the tall grass..

 

At the moment doing a bit of trouble shooting, replaced one ADSL line filter, still need to resolve a board sensor for a cpu fan, and replace a length of phone cable, might be back next week…

6 responses to “The harsh and finding pockets

  1. Pingback: Monday Poetry Prompt #21 Results! | wdbwp·

    • Thanks Christy! The photo is from a place close to home for me. The story to the poem is of Australia’s wild north-west, a place of contrasts. Wet monsoon summers, and dry winters, a country of red earth. But it’s the pockets of refuge which make the different in such vast country, that can be harsh to both the knowing, and unknowing.

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