dust off the trail
and waken the winds
bend back the grasses
and point the birds
flying home
unpack the sky
and cast the stars
across the plain
retrace those lines
of our goodbye
leave today
for the beggars
and tomorrow
for the young
it’s yesterday’s gold
that shines
like the dawn
pull out the map
creased and torn
and follow the road
where we’ve
been and gone
follow the path
all the way home
© Sarah Whiteley
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Such a lovely poem…it has a very warm feel to it…glad I had a chance to read it.
Your poetry has such a lovely flow.
🙂
Thank you! 🙂
good work…i always enjoy lines that explore the nature of the spacetimerealm.
floating
on the wave
slipping below
the line.
we applaud
that which has just passed
to extend the moment
that was.
the unborn ghosts
of time ensphere us
making us late
when we show up early.
the thing
about bubbles
is that they almost never
always last.
Lovely response! Thank you..
It’s the sort of imagery that appeals to me 🙂
“unpack the sky
and cast the stars
across the plain”
You know I have to be careful when I comment on your poetry. I don’t want to end up just re-quoting (is that a word?) the entire poem.
A couple of times I’ve left embarrassing comments that went on and on almost as long as your poem!
So I’m done!
I love your long comments! I invariably find something new in them – some insight or something pointing me in a different direction! Don’t edit yourself on my account… I look forward to hearing your thoughts on my work and the tangents I inspire!
When I read Hames’ comment it brought an image to mind of breadcrumbs, and Hansel and Gretel. I had to go back and read that fairy tale – I’d forgotten parts of it.
It’s sort of an appropriate image in a way, though, because this poem is a very wistful return path. And like in Hansel and Gretel, from what I read in this poem, the “way back” is not easy to find. Those birds have eaten the crumbs, so to speak.
At least in the first part of the poem it reads that way – trail is dusty, grassy… the poet seeks to cast the stars across the plain to help find the way back.
Okay, there… I’ve nicely overdone this 🙂 It doesn’t really require it. I love to read poems aloud and listen to the words.
i love the multitude of emotions strewn on your poem. like a roadmap where the traveller just need to pick which way his/her imagination will have to go. and you are as good as our tour guide.