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stan n nassano

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Shadows Circling
by stan n nassano

Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Recent poems by stan n nassano
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           >> View all 163




Shadows Circling


They’re all gone
the people who were here
scattered remnants of their lives
whispering to me
chanting stories of the past
the hunt, the kill
the fight, all of it
it these parched flatlands
covered over, left behind
tangled brush and crackled 
sandy dirt
shadows circling, sweeping ground
 sentries’ watching overhead

Who were you
the flake of flint
 I held
clues you left
for me
 to hold
whispering to me, and
whispered back, knowing
you can hear me
I know
Snassano 4-28 -08





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Reviewed by Jackie (Micke) Jinks 5/1/2008
I experienced that same feeling when stepping onto the Hill of Tara in Ireland..the ancients whispering, breaking their long silence. It's eerie...great write...
~~ Micke
Reviewed by D Johnson 4/30/2008
I can see this poem extended into a longer story...good write!

Reviewed by Dawn Anderson 4/29/2008
This is wonderful...the style, the imagery.
Reviewed by Charlie 4/29/2008
This is quiet-- reflective beauty... Maybe there are aura scents that never really disappear... and spiritual dogs that read them. Or, for one day, to turn to stone, and to give voice to the rocks that have been there a little longer than forever-- I'd love to be there to memorize their stories... yet, with the ents taking a day to say a few paragraphs, and them being alive and all-- I wonder how long it'd take those boulders to say "hello"... just wondering --Charlie
Reviewed by Chantilly Lace (Reader) 4/29/2008
Wonderful writing sweet man...take care OK..Hugss
Reviewed by Myrna Badgerow 4/29/2008
Amazing Stan... 'flake of flint'.. I love that image!

Reviewed by Felix Perry 4/29/2008
I could almost feel the same feeling of wonder lust as I read this. To stand anywhere on this planet and hold and feel relics of life that was hundreds of years before us is facinating to say the very least.

Reviewed by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner 4/29/2008
Haunting - the ghosts of the past linger in these lines - well done, Stan.

(((HUGS))) and love, karla.
Reviewed by blue soplain 4/29/2008
everything a shadowland. . .
reading the nuances and the nooks and crannies of where not only you have been, but you you may already have been, thus the shadow may be your own. .. .
whispering to, me/chanting stories of the past
sentries [centuries]
the flake of flint I held [you are he]
even you say 'I whispereed back'. ... whispers upon whisperers. ..
mon dieu. .. . enchanted beauty.

> <
Reviewed by Gene Williamson 4/29/2008
Wonderful, Stan. I love the writing style, the content, and--I wish
I had written it. Gene (who once lived on the banks of the Ohio)
Reviewed by Gerard Gauthier 4/29/2008
I can see and feel the ghost of the land...Great read
Reviewed by Cryssa C 4/29/2008
You are a master of imagery! I can see you standing there...a piece of flint in your hand as you slowly shake your head...looking up and searching, searching the sky...and wishing they were there.

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