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may light ignite - where shadow sits alone - tell me what you sense - when etchings raw you read - and how my exploits ...
29/M/USA
USN Veteran Started writing in 2015 Every poem is a keyhole view into the person I am, follow me and read enough; you'll know me ...
Poems
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2015
In the Lea Field
Nat Lipstadt
Sep 2015
for the missed and the missing
~~~
lea - a tract of open ground, especially grassland; meadow; land used for a few years for pasture or for growing hay, then plowed over and replaced by another crop; untilled; fallow
~~~
In the Lea Field*
And again that man
in the fallow fallen field,
grasps his own tiller,
looking ahead, downwind, leeward to plow,
impatient to cut rows of upturned earth
to grow markers,
plant seeded rows of words
and again that man
presumes time,
planting a yearly crop of
hoped for just enough time
but it does not suffice -
enough and sufficient time
will not grow in the lea field
this year
Now a man comes to mind,
living and dying
in a lea field
the man too,
field fallen fallow like the grassy meadow
that once fed his overcast gaze
yet the man believes still,
word seeds of lea poems prior planted
fullsome in their dormancy,
potent with patience,
shall not always remain so...
they are
bridges-in-waiting,
un-til,
ready once more
for the missed to
till
anew
~~~
lea - a tract of open ground, especially grassland; meadow; land used for a few years for pasture or for growing hay, then plowed over and replaced by another crop; untilled; fallow
~~~
In the Lea Field*
And again that man
in the fallow fallen field,
grasps his own tiller,
looking ahead, downwind, leeward to plow,
impatient to cut rows of upturned earth
to grow markers,
plant seeded rows of words
and again that man
presumes time,
planting a yearly crop of
hoped for just enough time
but it does not suffice -
enough and sufficient time
will not grow in the lea field
this year
Now a man comes to mind,
living and dying
in a lea field
the man too,
field fallen fallow like the grassy meadow
that once fed his overcast gaze
yet the man believes still,
word seeds of lea poems prior planted
fullsome in their dormancy,
potent with patience,
shall not always remain so...
they are
bridges-in-waiting,
un-til,
ready once more
for the missed to
till
anew
Fish in the Sky
by Peter Fallon
Roadside railings
on raised ground —
and you presume a river
but find no stream.
So you picture the bed
of a railway track.
Nor sign of that.
Nor padded path.
Nor passageway.
The heart of another
is a dark wood.
Now a woman comes to mind
who didn’t care for me.
I loved her anyway.
And again that man
*in a lea field
who says one thing
and means another ...
As the main road gestures
anywhere —
a bridge over nothing,
a straddle of air.
by Peter Fallon
Roadside railings
on raised ground —
and you presume a river
but find no stream.
So you picture the bed
of a railway track.
Nor sign of that.
Nor padded path.
Nor passageway.
The heart of another
is a dark wood.
Now a woman comes to mind
who didn’t care for me.
I loved her anyway.
And again that man
*in a lea field
who says one thing
and means another ...
As the main road gestures
anywhere —
a bridge over nothing,
a straddle of air.