I love the sound of dry leafs crunching
under my feet as I trample through the woods
on a crisp clear cold autumn day.
and imagined where each leaf originated from
dose that sound crazy you???
it dose to me
thanks for sharing this wonderful write
Love & Peace be with you
Exquisite, Karla! The fourth and seventh line are the only possible 'outs', barely, for the underfoot leaves. The last line, shaftingly painful!
Melancholy at its most horrendous, lost-hope moment of birthed, lived and worded-life, aged by seasons, tides and movements. It's not the 'sum' of who others 'see' we are, it is who we are, the 'moments lived', which are the most unique and perspective.
Do they feel? do they really? is Autumn a murderer? is the dry leaves rustling their screams of amputees? are red leaves bloody?
My God girl, you know how to ruin the morning coffee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Georg
Now you sound like me Karla;-) Very good thought provoker! methinks it would be cruel if they felt it since we can't avoid stepping on them, they are dead before they leave the tree, that's why they fall off;-)
Sensitive and full of feeling. Know the feeling well! Love the sounds and sights of fall, but it is such a bittersweet season, isn't it? Your poem captures its essence to a tee, and you have chosen the perfect way to illustrate it! Now I will think of you even more as I
climb the leaved and gullied hills to the mailbox and back [quite a trek, yes]. T h a n k . y o u, dear friend, t h a n k . y o u.
(((((((ILY))))))) Carolina Wren xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxx
I hope they don't feel either. Those big maple leaves in the picture are gorgeous and I would like step over them if they were in my path.
Nice poem, Karla.
Hmmm. One can only wonder if leaves do feel pain when stepped on. OW. LOL LOL at Jerry's comment below; aren't we all guilty of doing this?? Very well done; brava!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your twin, Karen Lynn. ;D
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on October 27, 2007
You cold-bloodied murderess you, somebody ought to lock you up . . . Shame, Shame!
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
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under my feet as I trample through the woods
on a crisp clear cold autumn day.
and imagined where each leaf originated from
dose that sound crazy you???
it dose to me
thanks for sharing this wonderful write
Love & Peace be with you
William
Melancholy at its most horrendous, lost-hope moment of birthed, lived and worded-life, aged by seasons, tides and movements. It's not the 'sum' of who others 'see' we are, it is who we are, the 'moments lived', which are the most unique and perspective.
Love your inquisitive mind, Karla. :)
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Kathy
Wow, did I say that? Waxing a bit philosophical today....
Walt
My God girl, you know how to ruin the morning coffee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Georg
Love,
ET
God Bless
Michelle~
Be safe,
Karen
climb the leaved and gullied hills to the mailbox and back [quite a trek, yes]. T h a n k . y o u, dear friend, t h a n k . y o u.
(((((((ILY))))))) Carolina Wren xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxooooooooooxxxxxxxxxxx
It's the poet in you, right?
Fee
Nice poem, Karla.
Love,
annie
Christine
Paul
Love,
Susan
Blessings,
Joyce B.
Hmmm. One can only wonder if leaves do feel pain when stepped on. OW. LOL LOL at Jerry's comment below; aren't we all guilty of doing this?? Very well done; brava!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your twin, Karen Lynn. ;D