Solitude 

With a sudden thump,

Heavy with finality,

The formless hand of time tosses another trowelful of soft,

Loamy earth atop a small box

Whose contents are forevermore hidden

To the eyes of consciousness. 

The gentle breath of forgetfulness stirs the soft wisps of moist steam

That curl in faint tendrils from the gash

In the rich,

Brown,

Soil. 

Rain falls. 

Now gentle,

Now torrential,

And the ground forgets the scar

Beneath the choking weeds of regret.  

In a whisper of time,

All is forgotten to dust

And loss. 

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4 responses to “Solitude 

  • ONCETreyminator

    Love the “unknown” in this piece. The buried might be sinister, sorrowful or regretful in nature. Love the ground forgetting its scar. Nice!

  • Holistic Wayfarer

    I like this, the ending esp.

    Some redundancy here (wisps aRe soft and steam iS moist and tendrils aRe faint)

    “stirs the soft wisps of moist steam

    That curl in faint tendrils from the gash”

    Perhaps something like “stirs moist wisps that…”

    I know. Feels like butchery.

    Very nice job with the metaphors and imagery. The poem isn’t so HeAvY,

    • dtdeedge

      It’s been a while.

      The redundancy wasn’t clear to me. Now I see it. Inefficient poetry is bothersome. Drat. I’m out of practice.

      The first two lines don’t work together – I think the first ‘with’ might be wrong.

  • extraordinarysunshineweaver

    Interesting comments! Gives me insights on how to look st my poetry, too. But I like how the poem carried me.

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