I cannot reconcile the two
the clintons and the chickadees
the kerrys and the kin of yeats
the george and lilac bushes.
Philosophy can infiltrate
politicals and poeticals
to flourish as an apple tree
among the weeds of eden.
(Lost my train of thought here.)
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I don’t think you did, lose your train of thought, I mean. This is pregnant work, waiting for a revisit, for a quick edit to perfection, I think.
I like it :). If I wrote it, (I wish), I’d, on editing, change poetical to poetics.
I think I got what you meant, and think I know exactly what you mean. Eden’s weeds, if that’s not the end, cause it feels like you had more to say.
It occurs to me, I should shut my mouth, as you weren’t asking for comments of this nature. I just liked this very much and was piqued by your ‘lost train’ thought.
Best wishes,
No, no, Owen, I really welcome and appreciate your comments! Everything I hang out here as well as in Talespinning is open to the floor.
You could see, I’m sure, that the first stanza came out complete, while the second is a bit forced, but I liked the first well enough to continue, and I just love the line, “george and lilac bushes.” I think the rest is worthy of more work, and I’m glad you think so as well. You’re helping to set me back on course, and I’ll throw this one into Talespinning to keep it alive. Thanks!