In those places

Lake Mary

In those places

Never a time could follow, as a story wraps around her voice.

Out there on the floor, where tales they spin, then climb, embrace.

Where different worlds come peering, while another falls away.

Chances are you’re dancing, between slow walks along Summer’s clouds.

Untamed, evolving, rising out across grass windswept miles of plains.

Charting invisible maps, in words, in voice, in dance.

Yarns, each thread fraying across bare feet in jeans, where slow quick,

Wind storms kiss long forgotten sun drenched wild earth.

In those places, where people journey beneath their weathered sky,

Amongst these tempests to typhoons where natural walls long remain.


A poem about walking in the many forgotten places, listening to their stories.

8 responses to “In those places

    • Such places make for good feelings, Charles; it’s never far to find such places here, some just a few hundred metres/yards away, others the miles of our own choosing.

    • Kind of had a couple of tunes going around in my head at the time, Sky; plus, rain has danced here upon the ground in recent weeks, breaking the dry just enough.

    • It could be a little drawn out, though in places while writing it came with a set of variable paces to its flow. The trudging, that’s the climb walking to the top of the mountain bare foot, a steady pace, with but a few pauses to watch her dance, a Wedge-tailed Eagle through the mountain sky.

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