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Author Name: Freebluefish 2 Comments
Date Added: October 18, 2004 22:10:18 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Category: Abuse Add To Favorites | Text Only
Night Harvest
Autumn teems with fallen leaves
i sweep them from my parents
car port and sidewalk
with a old crooked broom
with uneven strands in the pitch dark
combing their mystery
the lights reflects in the puddles
and gullies of silver trembling water
that the rains have weaved
among the prairie grass
and the roads tear drop curve into
distance into the veiled cloak of night--
and the pathway riddle of culverts...

i sweep patterns of the trees garlands
that caress both the cold cement and
into throat of the whispering swirling of darkness..
i place the broom against the wall of the house
and marvel at the harvest of stars
on the dark vines of space.
How such strangeness flows in the veins.
How the shinning stain of suns
ripens in my mind
what strange wine
is being gathered
in the invisible depths of the sky...

i reach back for my broom
and discover that a spotted toad
has taken shelter
under the bristles of my broom--..
oh how he echoes out
into the pools of the lawn
between the golden blades of grass
beyond the circles
of the flood light's illumination
beyond my brooms memory...

How much like a toad
is the anonymity of my soul
small and hiding under the bristles
of my flesh
and i turn back and look at the stars
imagining what mysterious harvest
of wonder waits for me
in the intuitive halls of the heavens
i wait for forgetfulness
as the leaves continue to fall
and the stars bloom in the skies.
Author's Notes:
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'Night Harvest' Copyright © Andrew Rymill
Copyright is property of the above author or group. Reproduction in whole or in part is strictly prohibited.
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Comment By: FreeShe Whispers on October 19, 2004 08:35:00 PM Report
Comment By: FreeBarbara Demasson on October 18, 2004 11:36:37 PM Report
Delightful write Andrew...I get lost in your words.



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