The Foothills Poem by Eddie Roa
The Foothills
The foothills are rueful and evasive today
Their outline glow seems palled and
The twilight reluctant to give up the light
The sun a dull emboss on weak pink,
With rays like wrinkled fingers crawling.
A lethargic passing of a day
Clasped by avian claws a hare’s mangled fur
Wriggly worms feasting on rotting mouse
Crafty spider weaving zombie bags
An aloof mantis lops off her lover’s head
A woodsman felling venerable trees
The air reeking with scents of battered wood
I promised to keep this to myself
As I looked away from the scene
I shudder to think of the mayhem
Happening everyday in a sleepy glade
But, some things in the foothills
Are better left veiled in gorgeous green
Captivating! Emanating from a place, all is felt and witnessed!
I enjoyed this one Eddie most people only see the verdent green. Nature is for us all to enjoy, thank you. Bob
A very nice piece of work writing by you.Thank you for sharing it with us. Edward Kofi Louis.
I like the descriptiveness of the second stanza and it sets up your final thoughts beautifully.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/22/2024 11:41:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Eddie, I just adore your imagery. 'rays like wrinkled fingers crawling. 'An aloof mantis lops off her lovers head'. And gorgeous green tops it to a climax wonderfully......Karin Anderson