Published

10d8dd34018e0ef9d0593d6c72b01499

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41 Comments on “Published

  1. Delightful images…..some of them absolutely superb…like…
    “streets of snow

    Mixed with a scattered brown batter..”
    and…
    “orphaned leaves”. πŸ˜‰

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  2. so full of celestial longing for something… and you painted picture of winter in snow of poetry.. I love it.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Early last spring, I did find that lost glove in the woods, little red heart attached to a tree. . . Beautiful.

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  4. Pingback: Respite | City To Country Magazine

  5. Extemporary

    Do make hay while the snow
    Lay round about the streets.
    You will want to breathe
    Calm air before the next bout.
    So choose to use your rare respite
    To cast away all possible doubt
    That you can weather the storm.
    Bundle up well, keep your spirit warm

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Brilliant! This is a perfect description of the path I take to come home after work, and the lost gloves are a crucial part of it!

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  7. So tactile! Really put me in a moment “Gloves are placed in pockets Or lost on streets of snow Mixed with a scattered brown batter”. Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Very beautiful! You just made the winter image in my head so warm and home like. And about the orphaned leaves wanting to reattach themselves to trees..this will stay with me for sometime. Thank you!

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  9. Pingback: Respite | The Adventures of the Average American

  10. A beautiful picture painted with words! My favorite line- “Of orphaned leaves, desperate..To reattach themselves to trees.” Profound.

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  11. This is a wonderful poem Elan. Have you ever tried writing a book? I used to write a lot of poetry, really good stuff people told me. Then one day a had a few ideas for a story and I just sat down and began to write. I`ve been writing ever since! Your quite a poet!

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  12. Poignant and evocative. I have often, as all of do, struggled home through wintry weather; to the metro, the railway station. Our rush to beat the weather, perhaps to jobs we hate, leaves us little time to reflect. Perhaps we ourselves are the fallen leaves… Like the photographs by the way…

    Liked by 1 person

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