Thursday, October 6, 2022
HomeTeacherKevin's Meandering Thoughts | Poetry: Strolling the Path

Kevin’s Meandering Thoughts | Poetry: Strolling the Path


This poem is a part of a collection of summer time writing I’m doing with an intention on revision and size of poem with different Nationwide Writing Venture mates. The immediate was to note the world, whereas on a stroll or hike outdoors.

Strolling The Path, Noticing

It’s within the pause of stroll and thoughts
that you simply take the time to note
the way in which flowers bend to wind,
a dance to a music with grace –
you agree in, decelerate, listening
turns into an act of gratitude

An aged wall beckons,
stone floor all moss and lichen
and rugged, a reminder of these
who way back solid out farms right here,
divided these lands with rocks
pulled up from this dust,
a straddle between time and place,
and the unique individuals right here
even earlier than them

A leaf free-falls, inexperienced with crimson fringe
and orange veins mapped on the middle,
a floater from a department above,
and you’re keen on the movement of it,
the tumbling – the turning, and the way
gently it joins its brethren on floor,
resting for its subsequent act as nutrient
to nourish the soil

Additional on, the river bends, then breaks
beneath a small concrete bridge –
you duck to observe the circulation of water
into the darkish, cooler air, unsettled,
the shadowed curves of easy partitions
knitted with graffiti hearts and chalk marks,
the stone pathway slippery below foot

You might be boot-jumping roots now,
in by the wetlands of woodlands,
mosquitoes whispering in your ears,
the pungent stretch the place thick muck
grabs and holds you, and this inexperienced,
an phantasm of stability, of , of solidity, of regular,
nevertheless it’s not, and by no means shall be,
of right here the place the tricksters await

Then, simply past the path, bushes open up
arms extensive on the fringe of noticing,:
vivid summer time mild abruptly spilling in,
a liminal house between this wild,
and never, remodeling into transitory,
made full by an engine motoring by,
the quiet of the woods left behind
for an additional day

Peace (strolling it),
Kevin

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