Mid-afternoon, autumn
of the day
yearning for summer
past
too warm yet, these
cassocks too heavy
sweat trickles down
the back, down
the chest, down
the forehead
turns into mist
vapor of the presence
This poem is submitted for Open Mike Night at dVerse Poets. To see more poems, please visit dVerse Poets. the links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.
Photograph: Mid-Afternoon Mist, Whitelee Forest by AlexMacKinnon via Creative Commons.
29 comments:
This poem evokes images of abstinence, penitence and faith.
Your "too warm yet," immediately followed by "these /cassocks too heavy" creates instant visual of the penitent and also, metaphorically, the sense of burdens carried.
I like your use of canonical hours as titles of recent poems. They carry a lot of meaning.
That pic is amazing, so much going on in it. A wonderful job describing it in your piece too, "vapor of presence" was my favorite line.
we are just vapors ourselves...seasons passing one to the other...cant wait for autumn to really get here...
your words with the pic is perfection. Seasons of life pass so quickly...
Subtle in its symbolism, each word layered with meanings and each adding a different shade of color, of weight, of interplay. Excellent work.
I used to eat a lot of chocolate covered coconut treats made by monks in Quebec. This reminded me of the mystery of them.
Always have LOVED the word cassock.
Thanks for the mini trip.
I felt the perspire rolling down my back...etc. Have not worn a cassock for many MANY years--the sweat still rolls down. HA!
I'd like to spend some time in a monastery, though, measured in days--not years--grin!
ah you make me long for autumn...beautiful pic as well...i like the turn into mist vapor of the presence..
You really manage to open up the mind with a strong and assured apllication of well chosen words - the structure really aids the unfurling.
A really interesting poem
Arron
lovely...vapor of presence, my favorite line :)
Mystery of the mists. Nice.
Strong voice leading us to wisdom, thank you.
walking in the mist through this ...
nice take on the last days of summer...still to warm...fading as vapor so soon...bkm
Lovely write, Glynn.
adventures
of the nomad
through
tea time
like these lines:
turns into mist
vapor of the presence
"These cassocks too heavy," is a line that latches onto my mind. Too many years being "taught" by brothers and too long being a literal and figurative altar boy. Love the poem, hate the memories.
Falls in the air. 50 this morning.
I never cease to be amazed at the imagery you manage to convey with just a choice selection of words. I feel the weight of the burden, the constraint...I thought this fantastic!
"autumn of the day" is such a great phrase. Enjoyed this much :)
Sounds like you were caught in Indian Summer Glynn, in my estimation the nicest time of the year, but one has to wear layers!
Great verse.
Beutiful! And conveys so much so lightly.
This reminds me of my childhood with the mist of Ravenloft. Well done, I love short and sweet.
Don't see too many cascade poems anymore but the structure is perfectly suited to your topic. Nice write!
I hadn't thought of the name of those robes in forever...
raised in the catholic church, between the cassocks and the nuns habits... I feared ever having to wear one... for fear of ever looking that mean and uncomfortable.
Great line love it.
turns into mist
vapor of the presence
The form and your words quite delicate, really touching piece. ~ Rose
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