The Lost Suns

Wondering why films of setting suns had such a hold on my emotions

Humid air a heavy thunder scent

The endless timbre of afternoon song

Birdsong offered to a summer warmth

Suspended idle in the open window

 

Thoughtful my disc - setting sun

Unmet red rimmed by day’s regret

Potential - bound and now horizon lost

Here slides neat in to a saddle

 

That twilight of an internal myth

Aswarm with dreams of if onlys

Undreamt no more looks down

Bejeaned arse slides onto his saddle

 

It says - my high watch point

An instant replace by easy away

Never was a could be now

Here now is and never was

Reviews

[Kathy Van Kurin]

Michael Oliver,
"The Lost Suns" With all the word signals in this poem it is very intense. "Thunder Scent, afternoon song, summer warmth and open window" These from your opening stanza create a lazy and comforting platform.
"Setting sun, day's regret, horizon lost seen from atop a horse saddle." Second stanza showing a reality beginning to coalesce.
"Internal myths, if onlys..becoming introspective in third .
Then in fourth..Never was a could be..Here now is and never was............coming to acceptance.
I enjoyed this poem of thought progression and its process of acceptance. Life is full of these kinds of experiences and this writing was really a great example. Blessings, Kathy

[Michael Oliver]

Thank you Kathy - this is one of those conflated poems of two element sitting at my table looking down my garden on a summers afternoon on a day off work. And an observation from the top of a bus while going into central Cambridge from the railway station on a bus on a very hot day last July - it marked the end of one creative period. I became stuck in a word jam which is now clearing into a very different world.

[Kathy Van Kurin]

Michael Oliver,
The need for inspiration is the drive behind life for writing. At least for some of us. Maybe you are like that. I hope you continue to find great satisfaction and growth and just fun!
blessings,
kathy

[Cryingkate]

The evening Sun goes to rest and takes with it as it goes all that was that day. unlike the morning Sun The Sun has also been termed as westing at the end of a day.. I love the setting Sun and this past month I have a lot to say about it and it was significant to me and others but I will have to save the story for another time. Loved the theme and the poem