The rearrangement of the senses.
In the transcendentalism of emerging thoughts.

Haying in the afternoons fading heat
i tend to wander away, around                         Waldens pond

the coolness of spent shadows
make words linger in my mind.

sweaty drops lumbering down my spine       and lower
ha…..searing mind, decendes through worked muscles
–   to yawning fingertips and toes.

pink and orange colored skies, in variations –
after the horizon with cricket songs
my spirits strive

copyright (c) 2014 by franzad
written for dVerse


5 thoughts on “Harvest.

  1. Your images create a powerful sense of place and time, evoking those days when summer is waning yet still exerting her influence. I love the inclusion of crickets…something that I find popping up in my own poetry quite a bit.

  2. i used to help haying at my uncle’s farm and i remember the heat and what hard a work it is… there was a little lake nearby though…and in the breaks my cousin and i went swimming there… and i still remember how good it felt… smiles

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