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Author Name: Freestormwolf 4 Comments
Date Added: January 10, 2010 12:01:07 Average Score: (Needs 2)
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Category: Grieving & Loss Add To Favorites | Text Only
Reflections through my Weather Vane

Donít talk to me in your thunder.
for within that rage is given
a key to my release;
And I will dance away
on gunpowder clouds,
leaving you shouting
at a blank horizon.

Likewise, save your tears;
For though they moved me
more than once

I now allow no watery dissolution
to dissipate the truth of my
dry walls.

Plunged into deepest winter;
Rock hard ground,
ice cold bed,
became preferable to another spring;
and painful reminder
of the sand through my hour glass.

The summer escaped me
I chanced upon it briefly
scried in obsidian mirror
before even that cracked,
then disintegrated
in the heat
f our

Author's Notes:
A golden oldie.
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'Reflections through my Weather Vane' Copyright © Alison Storm Wolf
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Comment By: FreeCindy Bendel on January 14, 2010 01:34:36 PM Report
Damn know how to spin that weather vain! Awesome...Intense. Gold never old.

Comment By: FreeLORETTA PITILLI on January 12, 2010 09:30:14 AM Report
Like the seasons our minds hold unto what our thoughts define as reality for the moment.  So complicated that we use images as our reflections to ground and define us.  A very provocative write.  I love the mood and the flavor on life intermingled with the seasons.  Namaste, Loretta
Comment By: FreeBarbara Demasson on January 10, 2010 01:05:28 PM Report
WOWOWOW Ali...this is incredible. I appreciated the same things Linda did so I won't repeat them...I always savor the presentation and content your brilliant mind offers...this is no exception. I truly feel empowered when I read these words. (love it) "our manufactured midday sun" leads me to think of artificial way to describe the impression I got right at this moment. This poem may be an oldie...but it is still GOLDEN.



Comment By: FreeLinda Jo on January 10, 2010 12:51:08 PM Report
a golden oldie maybe, but still very, very contemporary...and with fresh phrases.  The first stanza is very strong...strong enough to stand alone... and is my favorite.  "don't talk to me with thunder in your voice...for I will dance away on gunpowder

clouds" that's a set of words many of us could have used in the well as today! 


    I really like how you have used the seasons to define the climate of the relationship from days "plunged into deepest winter" to days of summer with the heat of scorching "manufactured midday sun".  Just a great piece of writing here, as always!


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