Apr '12
8
It's day eight of National Poetry Writing Month (NaPoWriMo).
I never know where a poem is going to go. Today's one was kick-started by the lovely idea of cloud reading from this post at Seedlings in Stone.
Feel free to comment - don't be shy!
Cloud watching
They both lie hand in hand on shelled ground,
trying to distinguish
dragons feeding on ice-cream cones
a dog and a bird, flying together,
white cotton wheels rolling across their childhood blue.
no blue here.
gazing up through hazy dust
through dim building shapes
through street lights, long extinguished,
through a heavy film of history
at a sky racing towards them;
sounds of planes
grow louder again
whine of alarms
begins again
as their light folds to dark
and clouds implode
into a single point.
I never know where a poem is going to go. Today's one was kick-started by the lovely idea of cloud reading from this post at Seedlings in Stone.
Feel free to comment - don't be shy!
Cloud watching
They both lie hand in hand on shelled ground,
trying to distinguish
dragons feeding on ice-cream cones
a dog and a bird, flying together,
white cotton wheels rolling across their childhood blue.
no blue here.
gazing up through hazy dust
through dim building shapes
through street lights, long extinguished,
through a heavy film of history
at a sky racing towards them;
sounds of planes
grow louder again
whine of alarms
begins again
as their light folds to dark
and clouds implode
into a single point.
Like it. 2nd World War feel to it. Air raid sirens, blitz. Is that what you had in mind? Nice mix of innocence and threat.
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