The spot where we buried the zebra finch
the four of us a family from a past life
opened all of a sudden on my right side
through a gate made of araucarias
and through the entrance of a memory
lost, or partly hidden, a pirate cove
of treasures, an embrasure of the heart.
The spot where we came for a walk
when leaves were a different color
and my hair covered your face
when the wind blew and you were blinded
emboldened, yet shivering like a sailing vessel
in yet another life lost or partly hidden
an embranchment of time past.
The spot where we stood and talked
as hours went by, in laughter and meaning
the three of us, and you were so in love
a couple passionately kittenish
that I assisted like an elder sister amused
unaware as I was of my own kismet,
partly hidden, a chasm ignored for years.
The spot where I briefly stopped today
aware of those bays that inhabit my mind
those involutions that I called complications
now recognized as the ebb and flow
of a spirit’s overpowering nature
and you took me further, you drew my attention
to a neverending and quiet ocean of leaves.
Mmmmm. I love that "ocean of leaves". Gorgeous throughout, but what makes it more than just "pretty" words is your recurring imagery of those leaves, from the "araucarias" cove in the first stanza, the multi-colored leaves and wind in your second stanza, and the windy hours and "partly hidden chasm" in your third. I have to add too, that your font color helps to hold that imagery as well. But more than that, it's the emotion behind the words that "engulf" us readers as well.
I love the concept of an "ocean of leaves". A wonderful write. --Charlie
Axilea,
I love the flow of these memories. They feel authentic, and they triggered memories of a special thinking place I used to go to. I also like how the last verse punches through those memories into a modern moment. Feels like a renewal there, or maybe a new perspective on life. Nicely penned!
Sheila
Axilea, Your words totally embraced me as I absorbed them...you took me their on your journeys...and all came to life in such an eloquent way~
Christine
ya got to watch out for those ole Pirates' coves they do sneak up on ya,for me especially while walking....just walking... but give me a place with some past personal history,and yep thoses hidden coves do open up...nicely done X
How we are held by occasions, moments of personal and interpersonal significance and how we recall in our own individual way, the differentiations crucial to our understanding of what is meaningful.
This, Axilea, reaches me deep inside.
This is not a drill. The attack on Pearl. They were the ghost planes of the night, deadly, illusive, sharp-clawed Black Cats. The Memoirs of ARM H.P. Lawrence, a Pearl Harbor survivor, Black Cat, and decorated war veteran.
The true story of Cheryl Pierson Cuccio who made headlines in 1986 and her husband Rob Cuccio. Cheryl was abused sexually and physically and Rob died for 43 minutes on Cheryl's 43rd birthday.
We Will Stone Him is a raw, unfiltered trauma memoir about surviving childhood abuse, emotional manipulation, and the lifelong wounds that follow. This true story marks the beginning of the Rising From The Ashes Trilogy, John Gambacorta and his survi
Share
Print
Save
Follow
the seasons of one's life. -gene.
I love the concept of an "ocean of leaves". A wonderful write. --Charlie
Always,
Deborah
to a never ending and quiet ocean of leaves."
excellent finale embellished by well-developed images ...
I love the flow of these memories. They feel authentic, and they triggered memories of a special thinking place I used to go to. I also like how the last verse punches through those memories into a modern moment. Feels like a renewal there, or maybe a new perspective on life. Nicely penned!
Sheila
Christine
This, Axilea, reaches me deep inside.
John
Regis