Thursday, July 05, 2007

Waiting

The leaves are listening,
being very still
for any murmur of wind.
Are they waiting for gossip
on rustling cousins two streets down?
Fire and brimstone sermons
from root-ripping itinerant clouds?
The air hasn’t spit out a hint
as I watch, and they wait.
Most likely it’ll be neither,
just silence on a long hot day.

19 comments:

Katie McKenna said...

Wonderful poem sharing the moment of wondering and waiting Pat! Sounds like my neighborhood!

gautami tripathy said...

Another great poem with wonderful metaphors!

dsnake1 said...

love the imagery here.
long, hot and humid days over here too.

trinitystar said...

wish I could same here ... rain, rain, rain ...
wonderful imagery ... murmer of the wind ... I love that.

floots said...

i love that thought of leaves waiting to speak
good write pat
thanks

disillussioned_me said...

Somehow it reminds me of Enid Blyton's pixie stories. Very beautiful imagery.

"itinerant clouds"....i like the sound of this alot.

polona said...

nothing like still leaves here these days...
but great stuff again, pat!

Don Iannone said...

Very well written, Pat. Great poem here. Hang this one above your fireplace.

Janice Thomson said...

I like the feeling here...one can picture the closeness of the air...so hot nothings stirs...

kimber the wolfgrrrl said...

Love the image of gossiping trees! Beautiful!

J. Andrew Lockhart said...

hot HUMID days :)

All Blog Spots said...

nice blog

Russell Ragsdale said...

You've described the kind of time which you can feel like a weight but can never measure. Great job Pat!

Pris said...

Good one, Pat!

sage said...

Summer days down south, when there are no thunderstorms to cool the air, seem to go on forever. Good one.

Masago said...

Well said, went through that a couple of days back.

Katie McKenna said...

This "waiting for gossip" makes me giggle! So my neighbors!

Rethabile said...

Sounds like days I still remember from my childhood when there was no "murmur of wind." It was hot, dry, and something danced on the asphalt when you looked at it askew with your head close to the earth. Your poem reminds me of that, so long ago.

Pat Paulk said...

Katie, I was watching for almost an hour, and they didn't move at all. For some reason that fascinated me. I'm easily entertained. Thanks!!

Thanks Gautami!!

Dsnake, tis the season to sweat. Thanks!!

Trinitystar, thanks!!

Thanks Floots!! For some reason it really caught my eye. Weird I guess.

Disillusioned me, thanks for coming by and commenting!! Will return the visit.

Thanks Polona!!

Don. thanks!! I'll wait til Winter if that's ok.

Thanks Janice. It was all of that.

Kimber The Wolfgrrrl, I love the name. Quite creative. Thanks!!

Andrew, I know you know about those. Price for living in the South.

All blog spots, thanks!!

Thanks Russell!! Try not to measure weight, I'm always disappointed.

Thanks Pris!!

Sage,especially when one is working out in them. Thanks!!

Vaughn, thanks!!

Katie, thanks for the double comment!!

Rethabile, that simmering out of focus heat coming off asphalt is very familiar here too. Thanks!!