Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Reeds

Reeds rise
improbable,
vegetable and vein
where the clouds
have fallen
in them
they are
their own
separate island
a swimmer's pate
bobbing
on the chilly bones
of March

hollow reeds
the wind
whistles through them
a thin high song
rising


Written for OSI, "hollow"

7 comments:

Titanium said...

"bobbing on the chilly bones of March..."

Brilliant. I could see, hear and feel this one through and through.

sandra said...

nice images...well said!

SandyCarlson said...

Those reeds shape summer.

Beautiful post.

anthonynorth said...

Lovely imagery in this.

Kim Nelson said...

Great diction and flow.Like the bald pate image, too.

Mad Kane said...

Beautiful imagery!

Mad Kane

Promising Poets Parking Lot said...

creatively cool.


love your poetry talent here,

inviting you to join Poets Rally by submitting a poem, any poem is welcome.


hope to see you in.
keep entertaining!
You Rock!