PoetryPix
depictions by the rule of thirds; descriptions mostly freestyle words
Gold dust
A small, still green umbrella of a tree
stood its ground in the graveyard , just as a soldier might
against the bloody rust and decay of the last battle.
And there you sat – such a life-like resurrection
I left my body to come and see
a stranger rose and went by instead, kicking up up leaves
and each mid-October your going nudges the ribs
breaking in again to the heart centre
– that nugget you left for us to invest
we still waste
Related poem:
Sparks
These 10 lines dedicated to the memory of a devoted friend and teacher – and written for A Splash of Rust and Gold – Micro Poetry
10 Comments on “Gold dust”
My Japanesque Garden
Such a remarkable piece, Laura. I was captured from the opening image…
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your mini prompt makes us make good use of words 😉
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This is wonderful, such a story you create of loss… the stranger kicking up the leaves is such a great turn, I can feel the plunge of heart.
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Such an evocative moment – glad you can feel it
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“And there you sat – such a life-like resurrection
I left my body to come and see
a stranger rose and went by instead, kicking up up leaves” That is so intriguing… makes me want more.
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micro poetry always leaves room for more 😉
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beautiful and nostalgic. you really painted a picture in my mind.
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thank you Stacy – it was a strong impression
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What a wealth of images and story suggested so concisely!
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thank you Rosemary – it’s a lot to fit into 10 lines
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