Array ( [sid] => 181091 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => To and Fro [time] => 2015-05-03 18:33:55 [hometext] => A tribute to Elizabeth Bishop [bodytext] => As the crest of some Gothic
fixture is framed by
the rising of the sun,
a change can be felt in the air.

Moisture, hanging heavy,
clinging leaf to leaf,
drips in beads between
stony spires

and well-trimmed bushes,
surrounding history’s home.
The unmistakable
chirp, chirp of morning

citizens echoes off the
limestone edifice,
as if to hail
the passersby

who shuffle
to and fro,
burdened by the remnants
of their fitful rest.

One cannot be sure what brought
them here to taste the yawning day:
the long-lost pursuit of something more,
or else another spent cliché.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 152 [topic] => 27 [informant] => Wordsmith123 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => NaturePoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - To and Fro


To and Fro
Date: Sunday, 3rd May 2015 @ 06:33:55 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: Wordsmith123
As the crest of some Gothic
fixture is framed by
the rising of the sun,
a change can be felt in the air.

Moisture, hanging heavy,
clinging leaf to leaf,
drips in beads between
stony spires

and well-trimmed bushes,
surrounding history’s home.
The unmistakable
chirp, chirp of morning

citizens echoes off the
limestone edifice,
as if to hail
the passersby

who shuffle
to and fro,
burdened by the remnants
of their fitful rest.

One cannot be sure what brought
them here to taste the yawning day:
the long-lost pursuit of something more,
or else another spent cliché.


This poem is Copyright © Wordsmith123


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