Your rain has fallen
Onto the dry soil
Of my fields,
So long parched
For water,
An anxiousness
Has rooted there
That fears
It has become hardened
And will keep
The downpour
From soaking in.
But, instead pool
On its surface
And pulled by
The gravity of terrain
Into rivulets that flow
Away, are gone.
Wow. Really liked this one. Also, thank you for the poet of the week posts. I have been enjoying those.
You’re very welcome, Joseph. There are many big, and small poets. out there, or were until they died, that shaped the poetry of today–The Moderns. Some just don’t realize that there people, like Pound, Eliot, Williams made possible the poetry they write today. It also shows how good poetry can be.>KB
I greatly appreciate your sentiments and thank you for the compliments. However on one point I want to clarify that you would never want to be in my head crawling around my thoughts, there are blind alleys, sink holes and no emergency exits.>KB