Monday, January 28, 2013

Change of Season

The rain came in
my sleep heavy as draft
horses wading through
golden fields of barley
honey amber and sweet.

I rose as dreamers will
sometimes, walked out
among late adonis blues
and irises while the fading
sepia moon was just meeting

Orion striding along the last
rise before the wide ocean,
the last month before the fall
when rain returns
and the world grows

a little quieter, a little older,
colder still. My lost true
love breached the sky
where the rain comes in
and this sleeping mind

remains forever
seeking summer.

1 comment:

literary.overdose said...

While I have no constructive criticism to offer, P.B., as always I'm floored by your wordcrafting abilities. The first verse particularly strikes me..."my sleep heavy as draft/horses wading through/golden fields of barley/honey amber and sweet." I love the imagery of the draft horses wading--really captures the plodding, muted struggle of sleep. I like to read your poems as one whole, then in sentences, then in phrases created by the verse stops. I think that your choice to use the verse stop after "draft" is particularly effective, as it throws the reader until the next line.

I'm also interested in your use of full stops here. I like the fact that you used a full stop at the end of the first verse--it seems like something different for you, although maybe I'm just remembering incorrectly. Excellent work, as always.

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