A dog passes without its
master as the blind man
rides to market. He flits
about - drawn to blueberries,
red clay hearts, postcards,
sparks of green in a girl’s eye.
Frightened he doesn’t see
himself in mirrors, he fights
wakefulness - as darkness will
surely resume its vigilance,
and once again, he will climb
out of presence into absence.
nice write. and once he will climb out of presence into absence,
John, How many versions of this poem have you written? Do you have a log of them? I believe I've seen at least 3, and possibly as many as five. I'd like to read them all if you have them available. What generally prompts the change? . I think the version here is perfect. I'm going to print it off and keep it because it may evolve in ways I haven't seen yet. . John, you are such a special poet.
i don't think there's anything in this poem that's out of place or jarring, the measure the words - the breath of the poem - is very natural, and i like the images.
A well penned poem, keep it up! You are in the right track and site, PH, you got my well deserved vote,10+++Love and Peace...(The One and Only) ...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem. "He fights.. and once again, he will climb out of presence into absence."… wonderful.5*