The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 3/1/08

[BlueIris]

"March"

Seeing the March rain flood a field
Then runnel from sight, as the wind
Kicks up a bare-limbed fury of trees
And a single crow flies north-northeast
Into gray distances from which
One bruised cloud goes driven grimly
After another so the whole sky
Blunders in a stampede of shapes
So changeable they disprove shape,
And then the rain again, in which
The clouds come down but differently
This time, driven like nails blunted
And lost with hitting the ground
Till how many will it take
To fill the field and disappear,
As what we call a change in season
Blusters, or storms, or goes dead still
With us left standing underneath
To wonder or ignore such change
From overhead to sometimes underfoot
And going on regardless where we go,
Who we were, what we ever said or did.

—Wyatt Prunty

[RetroLounge]

1. Oh, that's nice...

Blunders in a stampede of shapes
So changeable they disprove shape

:hi:

RL

[CaliforniaPeggy]

2. My dear BlueIris...

Very pretty!

...And going on regardless where we go,
Who we were, what we ever said or did.

The vast indifference of weather...

Thank you!



:hi:

[BlueIris]

3. Hey, comments! I love comments!

Thanks, my awesome readers!!

[BlueIris]

4. Comments...here, little comments...