young spring...

young spring humbly begs
crusty old winter's sharp winds
let me be what I must be

no compassion
I want a final fling taunts
winter's frosty ageing glare

hooves...

(The poem evolved from this photo of a horse at Balnarring beach
- more it's timing on recent Good Friday)



scrambled crests of waves
resolute hooves of morning
torment the tidal rhythms

the earth is drumming
white bow, red sword and black scales
a pale enigma follows



Poetry form: sedoka - addressing the same subject from different perspectives


(hope someone recognises the symbolism of the last 3 lines)


NOTE
I have 9 comments and no one seems to see the twist in the last 3 lines...
The poem hints of  'torment', upsetting daily rhythms,
and then moves into
symbols of the four horsemen of the apocalypse...
The first 3 - the anti-Christ, War and Famine...
The final pale enigma, the pale horseman, is Death...
More details HERE
(I wasn't trying to be sharp to people...
I was more concerned that the connections I created were too vague
and my poem as a whole just sounded plain odd...)


Linking to:
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads - Still getting out of the starting gate - equine association

trinkets in torment...

maimed woods and metals
lean on each other to make
a new kind of make-shift nest

grasses twine and bend
offering some charity
stray coin in a thread-bare cap

~~~~

assets
n e g l e c t
spirits

spirits 
a b a n d o n 
trinkets



 Linking to:
Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - Open Link Monday
The Sunday Whirl #144