I wonder how fast I can write this,
dinner steaming downstairs,
lunch -
my breath cold in sinuses washed by clean country air,
my hands still clumsy, not made for keys
to tap,
and smelling sweetly of the grass-like smell from the yellow buds of the whin bushes down the way.
And I saw two heron creatures unfold in the wind and flap, flap to another place, more abundant in fish,
or frogs,
or so,
and fold again, and be nearly invisible to my blind eyes, had I not followed their path
with bated breath
and my heart beating like a happy child with drumsticks.
Dinner downstairs,
lunch,
I have to say three more things before I can eat
I am filled with wonder
the susurrus of the dry grasses in the field merges with the susurrus of my dry organic hair in the beating wind;
I marvel at my own mortality,
that no one will mourn me
in the seconds after human decease,
just as no one will mourn the majestic clump of golden grass in the juiced sunshine
dripping down onto my gold-spun hair in the wind, flapping like a sail
or a flag -
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,008 Literary Works • 672,834 Reviews
Hello Baesch!
I like it! It explains all that you felt while you were out there. It almost seems cut short, but the feelings of the whole time are there. The anxiety to type it all, the peace of nature. Your outlook on human's mortality, and how you compare it to nature is just wonderful! I love it! Emotion shines through it all the way through.
~Kelpies
LOL.
This is the sort of feeling I get when I am running out of time to get writing done and you have captured it perfectly.
You've got lots of little details that help make this authentic.
But, my one qualm of this piece is...
it sounds a little bit purple-prosey. I would cut out some of the adjectives.
Anyways. Keep writing.
~R
thanks!
It took me a few times to get the meaning, but I think I finally got it! The first line is the key, this is about death. More specifically someone's thoughts while they're dying. Since they don't have much time left they've deluded themselves into believing they were doing this so fast so that they could go eat. After you realize that you have to read the rest way faster. They're regretting how they died which is seen where you wrote "and be invisible to my blind eyes, had I not followed their path." After that it's childhood memories, and the sad realization they were dying and that no one care once they were gone. It was great poem so really the only tip I can give is to try and space it a little differently. Unless you prefer it this way, in which case to each their own. Hope to read more. =^_^=