THROUGH THE DUSK

lost, dark, woodsy

Through the Dusk

Through the dusk of crunchy leaves, crooked branches
at last a light, yet blurred to my eyes
I have trod a course for hours
circling full to fears of hinterland
alone, my pulse beats like a blender
at the trust this glow
I squint to view, receives me

I carry on, steps cautious
with my ancient
handmade stick
astute that prickly twigs
may snatch my eyelids
in the dark purple

As I footstep closer
I discern an old man
in a rocker with spectacles
I rap on the old wood door
the elder promptly greets me
with an inquisitive look
I'm lost, I say
He chuckles and invites me for tea
as I am thirsty from my hapless trek

Reviews

[JE Falcon]

You had me from, "Through the dusk of crunchy leaves". I'm still trying to visualize what was said during the tea. --- No, now I'll get it, just a little more time and another reading. :)

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you so much for your thoughtful review.
Best, B.

[Patricia]

Sorry I accidentally deleted my own review so let me try this again. (I do these on my phone) I love the second second stanza it made me duck my head and squint my eyes. Extra points for using the word hapless and at the end an invite for tea and conversation, that was sweet. I never know the journey you are going to take me on but I look forward to it. So much in a short poem! Thanks B. Love P.

[Betty Hermelee]

Thank you dear P, always a great review!
Love B

[Patricia Wedel]

When my Grandfather was living his last days in an old Farm House where he had plowed the field with a Horse and Grandma Milked their Cow....
He listened to Long-playing Hank William, Sr. Western Songs in a Bed by a Warm Wood Stove. I often spent time with Him... as I was his first Grandchild of many more. He had retired from mining Coal in West Virginia... and then bought land in Delaware where he spent his last ten years and died of Black Lung.
Your poem and photo remind me of spending time with my Grandpa when I felt Lost in a World where Wars were fought with His Sons in foreign Countries.... and yet we still wonder what will become of our Country with Borders wide open and no Accounting... still Lost in the Dark with shadows foreboding. tenderly, Pat

[Betty Hermelee]

Dear Pat, I like your review better than my poem!
Thanks so much for a lovely and humanistic review!
Truly, B

[Patricia Wedel]

You are Welcome… just watched 60 Mqinutes on TV Sunday Night. Our World is changing too Quickly… perhaps Poetry will help us keep a Balance. gently, Pat

[Miss Sharon]

Beeeeeeeeeeeeautiful! So much can be read into this one...and all of it meaningful. Thank you! ~Sharon

[Betty Hermelee]

You're very welcome dear Sharon!
Best, B

[John the Baptist]

I think you'll be OK unless he tells you his name is Norman Bates.

[Betty Hermelee]

Does it sound that haunting??? Thanks John for warning me!!!