Wednesday, March 16, 2016

An angel

an angel
sitting on a stump
of peeling pine ...
the rich-red heartwood
has turned to sawdust

red lights ("featured tanka" section), vol. 12, no. 1, January 2016



7 comments:

  1. A very evocative poem. The last lines would seem so sad were it not for the presence of that guardian angel! Beautiful photo, too--such interesting color & texture.

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  2. We all eventually must turn to dust.
    That stump has recently turned to that almost-bluish-gray you see pictured. On the other side, I think, is where I first saw the sawdust. Now, the whole stump is disintegrating.

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  3. Where will I put my angel statue now?

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  4. Wonderful photo. I thought, at first glance, that I was looking down on an angel with wings spread. The sawdust/dust to dust symbolism is so poignant. I agree with Jenny: a very evocative poem ... with those lovely nuanced layers you render so beautifully, Janet.

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    Replies
    1. thank you for visiting and commenting, wendy!

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