It is a wandering meme passing through the synapses of human beings.
It is inspired partly by the experimental poems I used to help write in a pub in wildest mid-Wales, and partly by the furiously inexorable turning of the seasons.
It is not written only by me but by anybody who wishes to add to it.
To participate in this poem physically leave your computer and the room it is in. Experience something of the season with different seances. Return to the computer. Post 1-5 lines or words inspired by your experience in the comments bellow.
Watch the poem grow.
After The Equinox
The first leaf tumbles
The solitary dry rasp of yesterday on asphalt
Cold creeps in the shadows
leaving my shirt in the toasted grass
I and the sun wrestle with A4
Mushrooms occupy the land, silently.
Crickets file their nails and bees hum a tired tune.
And yet a strange sun blasts a last glow of heat on the tired earth
The cold crushes my kneecaps
Sitting in
Autumnal sun,
Feeling small
Spiders crawl,
While balloons flyby.
Crickets file their nails and bees hum a tired tune.
And yet a strange sun blasts a last glow of heat on the tired earth
The cold crushes my kneecaps
Sitting in
Autumnal sun,
Feeling small
Spiders crawl,
While balloons flyby.
The cold crushes my kneecaps
ReplyDelete(I am enjoying the way this poem is oscillating between heat and cold - like this time of year it is liminal and uncertain!. Would be interesting to have a southern hemisphere contribution!)
ReplyDelete