Soundless in Sadness

Written for:  Sunday Whirl, Wordle #408

Words:  cut, stars, water, dogwood, quiver, granite, earth, pill, rough, bell, dearth, garland

This poem is a bell
that no longer rings.
Dogwoods shiver-quiver
as they are roughly
ripped from the earth
where a dearth already
exists of our tall friends.
This poem is a bell,
water-logged, burnt,
watching a pillar
of granite grow
and blot out stars.
This poem will not ring
until the next Spring garlands
earth with new saplings.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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6 Responses to Soundless in Sadness

  1. oldegg says:

    Yes it grieves me too to see our careless destruction of so much of the wild orld tht keeps us alive. Forests, seas, icecaps and a balance in the animal species now becoming unstable all because of our greed and carelessness. It is a pity that poets seem to feel this so much as it hurts to write the truth.


  2. colonialist says:

    Another example of using the imposed words to convey a profound truth. New saplings indeed.


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