Jun 2020
The landscape
slips off
in the distance
Steep plummets
of steel stones
and broken shells
Swirling mists
fading into
unnatural light
A touching chill
falling over
rocky beaches
A folded chair
on well-worn path
Facing East
into the mists
and steepest cliff
We all watch
the end
of the world
as chamomile
and honey
draw us
into the fade
slips off
in the distance
Steep plummets
of steel stones
and broken shells
Swirling mists
fading into
unnatural light
A touching chill
falling over
rocky beaches
A folded chair
on well-worn path
Facing East
into the mists
and steepest cliff
We all watch
the end
of the world
as chamomile
and honey
draw us
into the fade
I wanted to create something mysterious and dark that spoke of the ephemeral nature of life as we sit and watch the cliffs along a rocky coast. The imagery for this poem came from a trip I took to Maine and sat on a cliff one morning in the misty fading Autumn. It was truly spooky and truly beautiful.
(37/M/Minneapolis)
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