Swing

the evening flowed turgid

with the fragrance 

of the night flowers

and of the noise 

of the ramble

of my thought

 

moment passed

 

suddenly

 

the smell--

became

vaguely fragrant

reflection 

grew

cold 

and

tired

 

 

 Silence…

Reviews

[DIVYA]

Belle...
The beauty of this poem is that it is open to interpretation in so many different ways. For me, it symbolized aging and death, of dreams and eventually of the mind and body. Your language is simple and beautiful. It is a work of art!

[Inspiring Writer]

A beautiful poem ... splendid piece. It's an interesting poem to read even it's a poem that open up the heart of a nature.

[Androglossia]

The threshold of consciousness or so it seems.

[Sami Khalil]

I felt like a hammock of silence swinging with your thoughts. The turn of events made it more interesting too...Bravo

[KAin]

Beautiful.
For some reason, I feel the wind in this poem. A lonely wind, whose howl just seems to grow louder and louder as the moments rush by. There's a freedom in solitude... a freedom that can be very frightening if you've never felt it before. And there's a noise in this kind of silence... the deafening, continuous crash of your own thoughts.
I feel this way often.
Well penned, and thank you for sharing it with us.

[Caradoc]

This calls to mind being alone in a park, 2 am, just me on a swing. I can hear everything around me, the crickets, birds, the distant echos of tires moving over the road. Every so often I might hear something different, like someone in their backyard laughing or a dog barking. But mostly it's just me, alone with the sound of my breathing and my own thoughts.

More closely though, I recall an event I wrote about in the book I'm working on, From the Ashes, that flows from just such a scene.

This short poem of yours fills me with a sense of peace I've only ever felt when I was alone in a park.

Well done.

-Cara