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Lakeland Lacuna

November 1, 2011

banter bounces
man-made trails
carved orderly through
wind-rush Grizedale pines

our feet skip-skitter
hollow scree,
slating greys of
Borrowdale Volcanics

storm rivulets squeak
grass Photoshop green,
muscles tuning for the
highest forest lookout

we part the way
for Jewish Orthodoxy –
birth to middle age flock
fertile blanks amidst
high summer’s surge

we swarm the path
regaining footholds
threads of conversation

..Mum, you know the one
slow start like this…

I catch the tune
belt it large
irreverent off-key ricochet
between the trees

pushing through wooded gloom
we search for sculpture –
needles cushion-hush
muffle our slowing feet
to standstill

invisible orchestrated pause
the mime of atoms
holding breath

we hear suspended day


Linking to tonight’s OpenLinkNight – where poets go to read –

From → Uncategorized

  1. Patsy permalink

    Becky this is just so evocative – well done! Very talented.

  2. we hear suspended day…great closing line…would not mind a trail of sculpture…and a little impromptu singing as well…smiles.

    • …. we seem to have a tree theme this week…. always better with some singing.. 🙂 Thanks for dropping in Brian…

  3. The mix of proper nouns, simple words repurposed (belt, mime, skip-skitter), and conversational interlude keeps this poem’s voice lively.

  4. So well written. Always a treat. Adore ur ability with words and phrasing and setting a mood and presenting an image to take away and ponder and reflect. I’d love to hear the song.

  5. …thanks Henry… the singing could well be better left to the imagination…:) Will be over to read yours later…

  6. oh i too love the suspended day…love the days that just can’t be long enough to really drink them til the last drops hangs like a trophy on our tongue..would’ve loved to walk that trail..

    • glad to know you felt it Claudia.. yes, special day… and love your image.. a trophy on our tongue… yes…

  7. hedgewitch permalink

    I like how the progression of the poem itself mimics a walk, with that final pause at the end to savor and then wonder what comes next in the suspension we know we can’t keep. Enjoyed much.

  8. Beautifully rendered and you brought the reader along, immaculate word choice as always! A real gift :).

    • hey Anna… I felt it was a gift…those moments when time stops…and then the onward rush.. Happy to hear you enjoyed the walk..and the hush…

  9. That’s just gorgeous language. It takes me to a place of hiking with its sounds and sensory overload, to a sudden hush, a feeling of being at one with it all. Please tell me about that beautiful photograph and the very intriguing wood sculpture.

  10. Hey Mark… you’ve caught it exactly… I knew it would come out in a poem at some stage.. 🙂

    The photo was taken from just below the highest lookout we were headed for…the trail is in Grizedale Forest.. in the north of England (the Lake District) not far from Windermere and Wordsworth’s Rydal Water.. just beautiful scenery.. the photo is one of the trail sculptures.. artists in residence produce some wonderful installations… this one looking over the forest towards the sea… seemed another way of looking at the lacuna hush…
    So, if ever you’re in the know where to go…

  11. do believe we need more suspended days with loved ones… “needles cushion-hush
    muffle our slowing feet” great expression

  12. what a powerful way to show us what you want to say.

    we all needed that.

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