Creative Traditional:

[SuzyQ]

Another day has hung her crimson scarf
atop the rocky peaks beneath a twilit sky.
Too soon her fading hues will rest among
man's ash and bone in heaps of age-old dirt —
where long forgotten tales of days gone by
are pressed upon the dry, cracked lips of earth.
Into this dirt, day heaves her final breath
and stories of the past whirl with the wind.
They rise from dust, like ghosts, and spread again —
though sadly not a soul around will hear.

[MsJacquiiC]

The Following Text Is Quoted:

Originally Posted by SuzyQ

Too soon her fading hues will rest among
man's ash and bone in heaps of age-old dirt —
where long forgotten tales of days gone by
are pressed upon the dry, cracked lips of earth.

Such a beautifully melancholy piece of poetry. I love the imagery here. This may be a bit silly - but I read this poem and immediately after reading the last line "though sadly not a soul around will hear", I immediately thought, "RIP 2011" lol -- this piece reminds me of the age-old concept ==> Out with the old, in with the new. It's a tedious cycle isn't it: life.

Anyway - nice piece = makes for an sweet first intro of your poetry here at JPiC! Thanks for the share

Jacquii.

[jakeminick]

nice poem and, what jacquii said and stuff. this poem makes me think of a possible 'haunting' from past stories and symbolism that continues to affect the collective unconscious though it may not be fully acknowledged or understood. or a prick response would be: "if no one can hear the haunting of past stories then how do you know they're spreading again? huh? what're you tryin to pull here? huh?...huh?" nice poem

[SuzyQ]

Oh sure, like "if a tree falls in woods and nobody hears it" thing? hahaha
Funny, Jake..... thank you for taking the time to read and respond.
Thank you too, Jacquii, you got it right on with the RIP.

While exploring the cemetery in an old ghost town near where we like to camp, I got to thinking about the dirt that was blowing around and was intrigued with this thought, "If dirt could talk, what stories it could tell." The dirt got into my head and soon after this poem was born.

[MsJacquiiC]

LOL Jake - you so silly!

The Following Text Is Quoted:

Originally Posted by SuzyQ

While exploring the cemetery in an old ghost town near where we like to camp, I got to thinking about the dirt that was blowing around and was intrigued with this thought, "If dirt could talk, what stories it could tell." The dirt got into my head and soon after this poem was born.

I was wondering where you drew inspiration from. It's always intriguing to me the backstory of a poem's birth. Very nice.