Wednesday, September 16, 2009

For the Departed, All

On our backs we used to craft
aerial confections that later
would be caught on our tongues
as snow or rain, a remedy
for any ailment.

Today the plum colored sky
smells of petrichor
and gunpowder,
and the puddles
are filthy and sweet.

(prompt via )


Anonymous said...

I like the simplicity and terseness of this; it contrasts with the magical and carefree childishness the poem begins with and adds power to the ending, informed with reality, but still a taste of the old magic the poem (and poet can claim).

Wayne Pitchko said...

short and good.....nicely done

Linda said...

I agree with David that the contrast between the childlike attitude of the first part and the terse imagery of the second part give your poem power. A well put together piece. Thanks.

Tumblewords: said...

Nice - it's full of memory and shifting life.

Amulya Rajan said...

So much conveyed in so little. Love the simplicity. The way the poem shows the contrast between the two moods is great. The last line is sadly beautiful.

Amulya Rajan said...

Sorry or should I put it as- beautiful in a sad way :D

Nathan said...

Wow, I like this a lot. The second stanza offers a wonderful turn.

Anonymous said...

Thanks, Nathan, for the word "petrichor".
(a rather dense reader, I kept trying to make the first two lines have something to do with wings or capes. duh) It's an interesting poem to read aloud, with such a concentration of hard "c" sounds and all those "p"s.