New wordle words for The Sunday Whirl:
lane, alley, sea, eyes
squander, accommodate, flocks, green,
follow, pewter, beating, intractable.
I do apologize; these words were difficult.
Hottest Summer On Record
The last light of day
seeps from the sky,
heat drains
the city's soul.
Moths swarm
haloed streetlamps,
pewter wings beating,
searching for the moon.
Alley cats roam,
hissing and angry,
green eyes sparking,
ready for battle in dark lanes.
Santa Ana winds
blow hot off the sea.
Exhausted, the old woman
finds her bed.
Sweat collects
between her breasts,
trickles down her sides.
Weary from life
she thinks about
squandered dreams,
bites her lips.
It is what it is.
Process Notes:
This could be Saint Paul in August, except for the Santa Ana winds. The closet thing to the sea here is the Mississippi River!
9 comments:
Hot days oftentimes seem days of reflection. You have a long to strong images in this poem. I enjoyed the 'pewter rings beating.' Last stanza is excellent. Yes, it is what it is. Good reminder!
Thank you for the wonderful word list, Marianne. It must feel a little strange using your own words.
This is one of those poems where I completely forget I am reading a wordle, I am so taken up with the story being told.
You rock these words. Hot summers are not a good thing(in my mind), but I love this piece of yours. The alley cats bit and the collecting sweat...there are great images at play. The words are lost in your work. Well penned!
nice take on the different emotions the heat can bring about, the urge to fight from the cats and the worn out apathy at the end.
What can I say that hasn't been said, Marianne. You certainly do these words justice. Some great imagery in this piece. Yes, they are a nearly impossible batch of words. I still struggling with them.
Pamela
"It is what it is" - I remember some hot summer nights, long before air conditioning made sleeping much easier for those with allergies. Your words ring with clarity and truth.
Thank you for your list... my offering can be found here:
http://julesgemsandstuff.blogspot.com/2012/04/lackluster-lackey-sunday-whirl-wordle.html
Oh Marianne- you have captured the weight of heat with heated words. You caught the old side of summer, when summer gets to be too much. My favorite line-"Exhausted, the old woman
finds her bed..." I feel a bit like this old woman tonight - and it is only April here in Virginia. Have a great week. teri
And it isn't even May.
I do like "it is what it is". Well wordled.
Moths swarm
haloed streetlamps,
pewter wings beating,
searching for the moon.
I love that!!! So visual, great poem, Marianne!
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