April 1
A humming bird darts past.
Hovering in front of a flower.
Drinking in the freedom of the air.
I stand in my confinement,
in the fortress
as microbes assault the ramparts
Flitting emerald bird flies to
the camellia panted for mother
after we gave her back to the earth.
This is the first poem I wrote the the NaPoWriMo. I have been able to get one for everyday and likely won’t post everything I write, but I actually liked this one so here it is.
I really like the contrast between what’s going on indoors and out. You’ve captured the strangeness of this spring very well.
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It is a strange spring.
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I like the imagery Andrew, and really, isn’t that what a poem is all about? Images and emotions. Well done!
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Thanks. I love to play with images.
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I like it!!
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Thank you.
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On waking up I hear the birds calling out to each other and see them doing what they have always been doing, flying from flowers to flowers and the evenings calling out to each other. Life goes on. Take care. Regards.
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Life does go on.
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I love the microbes attacking the ramparts! Tis a vivid picture indelibly imprinted in my head
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I’m glad you liked that. I was hoping it would have that effect.
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I like this too. Lucky birds….
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Yes, lucky birds.
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Fitting for our times
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yes, and what strange times they are.
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I hadn’t thought to envy the birds, who spring songs are so uplifting, but now I do.
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I don’t give as much thought to birds, but now I think I will.
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We probably never viewed freedom in this way before. Nicely done.
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I hadn’t thought of it until I saw the bird fly by.
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