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Frozen, they placed heavy footprints

on hard-packed foliage, etched ice;

the withered bark stretched around

in slanting lines, near-collapsing.


Moving these weights, one step, two;

these notions in a February mist;

regrets like the broken skies above,

where clouds drift dark with mingled smoke

from fires marking from whence they came.

But no scars give away their crime;

forged steel purpose in their mind;

enclosures rigid, fences reared,

and minutes pass, drift, into years...


That one summer, where they fell

together, interloping, eager-eyed;

all promises once carved in ink;

erased and shredded, burned, buried.


Night now draws on,

the stars are veiled,

for no lights would be seen

shining upon them.


NB: NOT a poem about politics per se.

2013Yesterday's Weather

◄ Chapter One

In the Sea ►


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Patricia and Stefan Wilde

Mon 14th Apr 2014 22:37

very much enjoyed David.xx

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 14th Apr 2014 12:13

What a background to bring to poetry - law and business and aesthetics! I can see the correlation between architecture and poetry, the art of construction for purpose, the right 'line' to support or decorate. etc. etc.

This poem is really powerful in tone, well-constructed, with tight selective diction etc. and, most of all, exploding with imagination. I like the depth of your ideas, their relativity according to the reader's experience.

Why do you say 'from whence'? I thought 'whence' means 'from where'. Moreover, if it does, the line is even better without the 'from'. I may be wrong about the word; I haven't looked it up.

BTW, that 'eye' is totally brilliant! Sexless - ageless - historically timeless - all-encompassing - fixating. A master stroke.

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Rose Casserley

Sun 13th Apr 2014 22:17

wonderfully wistful.x

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