Four days of rain like bleary freight cars rumbling by
Green boughs dance in the grey of a thunderstorm sky
Sometimes I stand at the edge of a poem
A sabre-edged precipice, a bridge to nowhere
A single-rimmed canyon staring at the haze
Of somewhere I wanted to be.
The ground where I stand, solid and certain
Like the two lines I've written,
The image that triggered the path to the edge
But I can't make the leap, can't take the dare
So I stand on the edge of the canyon and stare.
I see frogs hop in the searchlight of oncoming cars
Rain thrashing the streets in the wash of halogen eyes
Trees whipped by the rain-laden gusts of tropical ire
And beach-combers huddle and mutter in lobbies and bars
But I can't get there from here on this side of the gorge
Can't find the right meter, can't find the right rhyme
So I'll leave all the pieces right there on the forge
Of the wordmaster's anvil for an opportune time.
And the frogs
hop away
splashing,
ducks wag away
waddling,
and I go take a nap
while the green boughs dance,
and the words
wash away
like the guttering
storm.
photograph by Michael Roberts
What a fresh approach you have, Neal! Such original images. You have a very dramatic approach to poetry! I hope one day you will finish Four days of rain like bleary freight cars. It's such a cool metaphor. We're currently on the same track: two cars have passed by and I'm dreading seeing the rest of the train.
Thanks, Laurie. I am so pleased you enjoyed this, and I hopefully will finish the original piece. In fact, there is some inspiration brewing outside the window now. :)
LIke this one Neal. Been on the edge myself a few times.... Sometimes I think it's actually a good idea to stay on the edge of a poem. It just isn't ready yet and needs time to mature like a great piece of cheese! ;) Nice imagery presented here too...halogen eyes, mutters of beachcombers, wordmaster's anvil...Well done. Thanks for sharing.
Thank you, Pamela, for your kind thoughts. I have enjoyed your writing and appreciate your feedback. :)
Lovely poem. Making the leap, crossing the bridge is some thing so akin to every body's experience. You brought it out beautifully with wonderful images. Thank you for sharing.
Really enjoyed your poem! The rainwater can be incessant, but often the words hesitate to flow as easily. You created word pictures for me. Will look forward to reading more of your work. Thanks....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Rain! ! With the muse of nature. Thanks for sharing.