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| Open Poetry #42 |
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Brookview |
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Huan Yi Member Ascendant
since 2004-10-12
Posts 6688Waukegan 
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. A thick white fog Hangs among The leafless branches Of the not yet spring trees Even with Their headlights on Cars like lost ghosts Pass each other On the road The morning sky Is gray with cloud There are no colors Not muted by a shroud As if the world Were on its way To an annual memorial Uncertain of its mood . |
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| © Copyright 2008 John Pawlik - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Robert E. Jordan Member Rara Avis
since 2008-01-25
Posts 8541Philadelphia, Pennsylvania |
John, That explains this time of year. I'd get rid of the inversion in the second strophe. Bobby |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
This has a definite feel to it, John. Atribute to your talent. Ida |
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secondhanddreampoet Member Ascendant
since 2006-11-07
Posts 6394a 'Universalist' ! |
I am particularly fond of the ending: "There are no colors Not muted by a shroud As if the world Were on its way To an annual memorial Uncertain of its mood" applause!! |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
Nice ending, John...uncertainty prevails, especially in a fogbank. |
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