
The rocks mark the ground
between prospering weeds enriched
by the warmth of a sun surging overhead,
encircling those of us interred
on a planet whose
percussive heartbeat rocks me to sleep.
I sense the presence of wildflowers,
of ants scurrying together in the dirt,
of life — too bountiful to count or name —
thriving in the darkness or
at least out of sight —
I dare not note a difference in perspective.
Photos remain after we pass on
a gentle breeze that thoughtlessly turns
blacks to sepia, discoloring too many memories
otherwise cruelly lost
in darkness
though the sun shines tomorrow.
Phillip Knight Scott | © 2020
My first poem of the new year! Submitted to dVerse Poets Pub Open Mic Night #257
Written for:
- Sue Vincent’s Thursday photo prompt: Presence #writephoto
- The Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #1: January is here, with winds that blow kisses: “warmth” “percussion” “darkness” “sleep”
- Free Verse Revolution January Writing Prompt #2: “interred”
I do find it fascinating how much that remains in a photo… but always remember all that is gone.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Frozen forever, wherever they are now …
LikeLike
I love this:
“I sense the presence of wildflowers,
of ants scurrying together in the dirt,
of life — too bountiful to count or name —”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much! Glad you liked it 🙂
LikeLike
A beautiful poem Phillip, it flows very well with the imagery in the photograph.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Our planet does have a heartbeat and I think I can hear it when I slip into the dreamscape. The wildflowers and ants add another dimension to the poem. I read this one twice. nicely woven
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much 🙂 Read it as many times as you want!
LikeLike
It’s uncanny how you’ve captured the atmosphere of the image, Phillip, and ventured further into the landscape, especially in these lines:
‘I sense the presence of wildflowers,
of ants scurrying together in the dirt’;
and into the philosophical:
‘Photos remain after we pass on
a gentle breeze that thoughtlessly turns
blacks to sepia, discoloring too many memories’.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Kim! Glad you enjoyed it 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I concur with Kim – that second verse is such a contrast to the standing stones. I like the ‘prospering weeds’ too
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much, Laura 🙂
LikeLike
You snagged me at /discoloring too many memories otherwise cruelly lost in the darkness/. Picture prompts are always cool, unlocking imaginative meandering.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Glenn!
LikeLike
This hits so close to home– I once wrote a long series of essays about photos and memories, which I still mine for inspiration and language.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you found something you could relate to in my poem!
LikeLike
Oh this is absolutely splendid!💝 I love; “Photos remain after we pass on a gentle breeze that thoughtlessly turns blacks to sepia.”
LikeLiked by 1 person
So kind — thanks!
LikeLike
Beautifully written and such a wonderful image! Fabulous!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I loved the feeling you created here, Phillip… and completely appropriate for this site.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wonderful poem with some gorgeous imagery. Thank you for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I appreciate that! Thanks 🙂
LikeLike
Very beautiful. Fantastic imagery and rhythm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Lucy 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Stunning poem. Really speaks to this moment.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
i think i have sensed that too. and yes, the whole place is alive isnt’ it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yep!
LikeLike
I love old photos. It’s too bad they don’t retain their vibrancy forever. I enjoyed the words you wove from this photo.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love these sepia old photos – and trying to imagine the hues and what it could be, under the sun. Creative take on the prompt. Thanks for linking up with dVerse.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Grace!
LikeLike
I like this observation: “Photos remain after we pass on”
LikeLiked by 1 person
I enjoyed this Beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Maria 🙂
LikeLike
Wonderful photo! And your poem leaves me with a feeling of delicate nostalgia, as well as a touch of mystery.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLike
This is beautiful….
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Helen!
LikeLike
I enjoyed this poem, especially the second stanza. I like that the flowers, ants and surroundings are felt. There is a sense of being a part of, instead of separate.
LikeLike
How lovely this is!
LikeLike
Each photo a snippet in time. One that makes us wonder what the past held or what the future might be.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very true!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Phillip, amazing how you wove your words to capture the photo! I feel intrigued by both your words and the photo! Well done.
LikeLike
Beautifully written, Scott. A photo is a snapshot of your memories, a peek into our lost and forgotten.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks so much 🙂
LikeLike