Weathered Poem by James Kastner
Weathered
The sky at dusk shallows old houses.
They trade chipped white for welcome masks
Of gray to hide their rough-locked texture-
No fight from those old joints. Struggling,
A frilly cloud mocks them like a schoolgirl.
A whirlwind of leaves dances at my feet.
Moist and sticky and fallen from the tree too soon,
They cling to my shoes like a forgotten promise.
Sad slippers as I shuffle home, trying to scrape
Them off like old paint from clipboard.
Beautiful imagery, pictorial language and apt use of similes make it a work of art, keep writing Regards Bright Morn
fine description, good one, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment and vote.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/10/2024 10:10:20 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I m agree with your views but we often start our poems like thus..... Don't yo think it colors the picture more vivid?