POEMA EN INGLÉS
DE STEPHEN PAGE
THE DROUGHTBY
In a Field
Northeast
of the Wood
The soy
is stunted
The pods
The pods
hang brown
and brittle
The leaves twirl dunly.
The bees!
I never knew
The bees!
I never knew
There could be
so many!
How angry
How angry
they sound
in the afternoon:
Hundreds
of white wood hives
Pueblo
Pueblo
the edge
Of the wood.
I could not reach
I could not reach
the wood
The bramble
and burrs
Were too thick
Boundaring
Boundaring
the tree line
Incompatible
With my bare legs.
My ranch house
My ranch house
sits kilometersAway,
my 4x4 is parked
On the road
behind me.
I want to enter
I want to enter
the myth
Of the wood,
the legend of its shade
To lick the dew off leaves.
The thistle
The thistle
has bloomed to seed.
Has published on Prairie Poetry: http://www.prairiepoetry.org/poetry07/poems
Dear Stephen
ResponderEliminarwelcome to my blog!
Congratulations for your poem
All the best
Elisa
Hi Stephen, your poem expresses your love of nature and describes how its destruction affects us, "The brambles and burrs were too thick(...)incompatible with my bare legs". On the other hand there is also the magic of nature which must be defended("I want to enter the myth of the wood") I really enjoyed your poem Irene Marks
ResponderEliminarHi Stephen,
ResponderEliminarWonderful imagery. So nice to see your work, and surrounded by a language I can barely decipher. More perfect. Sarah Wetzel Fishman
Dear Stephen:
ResponderEliminarI share your wish to enter the myth of the wood and lick dew off leaves. It sounds wonderful...!
Abrazo
Ana Silvia Mazía