Friday, January 15, 2016

172



RESPOND
Dried stalks, how they talk and talk
And the wind dances, thinking its their song
Then my feet, trample on fallen ones
In conversation, in response
RESPOND © gillena cox 2016



blog hopping today at
Artistic Interpretations with Margaret - Maria Wulf's Visual Poems II
Imaginary Garden With Real Toads

Margaret challenges us with a set of short video clips :listen to the sounds of what you don't see, live in the moment, feel the emotions (or memories). Write in any poetic form you choose. I chose the clip ;Cut corn stalks in the wind'

17 comments:

  1. Oh I love the wind here... how unfortunate it's not their song...

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  2. But certainly it takes the wind for them to sing. And your footsteps, the chorus? Lovely

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    1. Thanks for your appreciation Margaret

      much love...

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  3. This is excellent, Gillena. I love your choice of words, from title to all that convey the sense of conversation.

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  4. i love how your words just roll and flow, much in the same way as the wind you speak of. i imagined a fall evening, wind blowing, tress and plants swaying calmly.

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  5. We chose the same image! I like how you picked up on the sounds and centered your piece on them. Very nice!

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  6. Yes, Gillena, they fall. Very nice rendition of the end of growth and then harvest. But that isn't the end. Pheasants and other gleaners will come to have a hay day. Pun indented.

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    1. ((Smiles)) you are quite right Jim it's a circular not a linear movement

      Much love...

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  7. I love that dancing wind!

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