My Featured Blogger this week is Imelda Santore of My Wall. Imelda, a transplant from the Philippines to the U.S., is a homeschooling mother who admits she is “not very chatty.” Hence, poetry and photography are, I suspect, her way of peering over that Wall.
Her poems and images are, like her adopted New England home (what is it about New England and poetry?), quiet, meditative, and in a word, lovely.
Visit and see for yourself.
Darkness dances in the margins.
Wildflowers, shed their blooms, one by one
and the meadows echo with the wind’s sighs.
Geese, once more, darken the blue skies
punctuating their flight
with honking cries.
The world turns
never going back to where it began
and we are all its passengers. Where do we go
carrying our age-old burdens?
Greens are fading to ocher.
Grapes are ripening in their vines.
The fragrance of apples is incense
foreshadowing the story born of time.
Night falls. The Harvest Moon rises
Seeds fall to the ground to be.
The idea of autumn, brought to the fore by this image posted in DVERSE POETS’ Pub’s Poetics prompt last Tuesday, inspired the above piece. My older boys, aged 14 and 12, to whom I read my poems first to get a feedback, called it an emo piece. The 12-year old said it was 8/10…
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