There is an air of neighbourliness here;
it is a mere pretence, a sham.
We nod, exchange pleasantries,
share small talk as I walk the dog;
watch (and mention) his hard labour
as he cuts a
swathe through evergreen
and he seems a little distant now.
We live our solitary lives
preferring the comfort of our own potting sheds,
there is necessity of order here,
we choose what will live and bloom
or twist out and die.
We have our sanctuaries’ our Edens
guard ourselves against the possibilities of
harm.
We, victims of our own defences become a garden full
of weeds.
We had talked some time ago;
he told me of his blight, proliferation of
disease.
He had hope then, an optimism.
He would lend himself to those with greener fingers,
they would tend him and he would thrive again.
The seasons pass and he has a look of autumn,
a withering of summer.
He tells me the laurel will not outlive the winter
and crestfallen his sad smile flutters to his feet.
Anna
MLM at Mindlovemisery has us trying our hand at
prophecy. Sadly the prophecy is that of
a near neighbour and I fear he might be right in that he, the laurel will not
outlive the winter… Not quite sure the
above is what MLM had in mind but after talking to my neighbour a few days ago i felt compelled to write of our discussion and I honestly think I did so to
cope with my own felt inadequacy.
(Also shared with the good folk at Poets United)
Image: courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Author:
User:Burrows
24 comments:
I must confess that as much as I love plants and I do truly I haven't got much of a green thumb. I can dig up weeds and such but leave me to the tending and their fate is assured =( I am sorry to hear you might lose the laurels beautifully expressed
being victims of our own differences...the solitary lives we lead....sadly so true...we live in crowded loneliness each protecting their own piece...it is a fake peace we hold onto...as this is not the way we were ever intended to live....
I might be wrong here, Anna, but this poem speaks to me about the loneliness of the human condition. We have our own Edens....which sometime become a garden of weeds. In this poem I interpret that the man feels HE (laurels being symbols) will not outlive winter, but then again...who does???
interesting notions here.. loved how the poem flows and wraps up in the end, into loneliness. crestfallen "his sad smile flutters to his feet"
His sad smile flutters to his feet. What an image. I got stuck in "a garden of weeds." Our lives are what we plant and lovingly tend. It can be vibrant flowers in place of weeds. That is our choice.
Here Anna my friend, a song that depicts nearly the same sentiment as in your poem. I am a huge fan of classics in general, with, to me, Edith Piaf as the queen. I hope you too like it. Sometimes the sentiment in sad songs is the uplift that allows you to overcome an own experience ... I remembered my late dad yesterday and listened to Edith, and quite a few other songs and a mixture of high and law, after which, I slept like a baby ... at 4am ... but then, I am a moon person any way ... hope you like the song :-)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_AEs7pjKyYc
Ah, the vagaries of neighborliness! Love your poem.
Beautiful ways interconnected...
This spoke to me in different ways but primarily what stood out is that we are all in this garden together and we can tend is only in togetherness.
I like that your poem can be read at different levels - that of a gardener who is sad and disappointed and also that of a neighbor whose days might be counted.
Anna, so sad--and it completely resonated with me, how we walk and wave to neighbors, and go back to our own order of things--that last line about the smile falling to his feet, was perfect. Times like these do leave you feeling adrift. A beautiful write :-)
poignant... loneliness though never a more populated planet? In our own 'Edens'?
sometimes the loneliest places and times in life are when we are surrounded by so many people. what a touching poem this was. brought some good memories to mind and also the isolation that I often personally feel, where we are now. well done.
www.mypoeticpath.wordpress.com
I loved this poem!
excellent write, Anna ~ M
I like this poem; it is so calm and unpretentious. You said everything you wanted to say in quiet words, which made me understand the feeling so much more easily.
sad poem, but it is authentic and full of truth
Thank you for your kind and welcome comments folks and
Mary you are correct in your interpretation. It is sad how we isolate ourselves for protection – but this we do. The world is full of lonely people who feel unable to offer the hand they wish someone to take. And my neighbour does feel he will not outlive the winter. I hope he is wrong.
Anonime: thank you for directing me to Edith who regrettably I had long forgotten. What beauty in her voice and you are correct in that sentiment in a sad song is often uplifting - what better way than to let the necessary tears flow? Thank you again.
Anna :o]
You're right - for some, sad songs uplift mostly after a river of tears flow, and it's because tears detoxify the heart and keep it clean. Of course, not everybody is blessed with the ability to shed tears Anna.
Thank you for taking the time to reply
This really moved me, particularly your neighbour's comments about the laurel. Really nicely captured.
Awww, this tugs at the heartstrings so. Yes, we do tend to keep to ourselves, but sometimes venture beyond our safety nets and find that others are struggling and coping...just as we are.
This was beautiful!
A good analogy, Anna, and a good poem.
Others commented already, but this--
"We have our sanctuaries’ our Edens’
guard ourselves against the possibilities of harm.
We, victims of our own defences become a garden full of weeds"
--really stood out to me. No tools (aid) allowed, bad things build up.
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