Hegira 2019

Slightly updated version of an old piece.

Fields of pricked green grass
with a crunch of winter white
as the rueful chroma in my cheek.
Painful prudence tumbling fast
I can't abide to cry
so I hark the pattering of strangers' feet.

Standing on the taciturn bridge
watching the skyline fade to pink
with eyes as deep as ceaseless wells,
harmony cradles over the city ridge
how resplendently, yet indistinct
are the vistas and the foreseen bells.

All the colours of the streets
and the songs of wave and shore
pass by as melancholy marvel flows.
Crumbles on the sombre concrete
with shadows on the floor
under withered streetlight glow.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

Beautiful poetic expression here. I am hearing your voice and liking it.

Chris

[TheJordBaker]

Thank you Chris, it's a voice I'm looking to rediscover, mature and develop

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I think of NY when i read this...the George Washington bridge...the concrete...somber...the shadows of the streetlights...
Central Park...i know it is not about that...but it reminds me.
j.

[TheJordBaker]

Mostly fictional but I'm glad it provides an image for the reader.

Thanks again, Jacob