After the storm
Overnight a storm;
boiling the kettle for
my first cup of tea
still half-asleep, I see
through the window
yes, a shock,
the stripped
angular branches
of the lime tree,
a layer of dead leaves
on the grass like a carpet,
a crow perches on
one of the branches
a chill wind
ruffling its feathers.
Did I really think
this would not happen?
boiling the kettle for
my first cup of tea
still half-asleep, I see
through the window
yes, a shock,
the stripped
angular branches
of the lime tree,
a layer of dead leaves
on the grass like a carpet,
a crow perches on
one of the branches
a chill wind
ruffling its feathers.
Did I really think
this would not happen?
posted by Mary at 8:50 am
8 Comments:
I love this! Such deceptive simplicity: the way it combines poetic form and rhyme/rhythm with the natural flow of speech and surprise.
Very nicely done! I like the way the rhythm gets stripped and angular in the middle, too. There is something chilling about seeing sudden nakedness. Isn't it amazing how we keep being surprised? (Yeah, I know what I just said... But it's true!)
I like this, especially the last two lines, which deliver quite a punch.
How the common things of life, the things we know so well, continue to startle and surprise.
Just like your poem did for me.
Thank you all. I looked out of the window yesterday morning and then the poem was written some 15 minutes later. And yes, I was shocked and chilled, more than I expected.
Very nice!
Wonderful. I love the ambiguity about which it is -- the storm or the quiet after it -- that is the antecedent of "this" in the last line.
Dale: thank you. Interesting, the 'this' in my mind was the effects of the storm - i.e the stripped tree. But I agree that it is ambiguous - thanks for spotting it.
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