i walk toward a place no craftsperson claimed,
a rise where the day keeps shifting its weight.
behind me, the porch talk sharpened to hate,
yet the road held steady, quiet, unnamed,
and i followed its pull through scrubland untamed.
others came too, each carrying freight
they’d gathered from years of holding things straight,
hoping this path might mend what life had maimed.
we shared what we knew in low, steady tones;
some took it in, some let it drift by.
still, we kept moving under that sky,
past fields where the wind worked dust into cones.
shadows watched close, as if guarding their zones,
their eyes fixed hard, unwilling to try.
the day leaned colder as crosswinds ran high,
and far off, a shape rose out of the land-
a city pressed out by weather, not hand,
walls worn smooth by the long, open sigh
of seasons that carve what no builder can plan.
we stepped toward it, mile after mile,
letting the wind do what only it can.
the city waited in crosswind’s hands,
unbuilt, unclaimed, yet ready to stand.
Thank you for taking the time to craft something in rhythm and rhyme. It was a delightful read in that respect. My favorite line: behind me, the porch talk sharpened to hate. Also: seasons that carve what no builder can. Very interesting wrap up with that last line.
Posted 6 Days Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
6 Days Ago
It’s inspired by the city promised to Abraham, one not built by human hands. Glad it spoke to you,.. read moreIt’s inspired by the city promised to Abraham, one not built by human hands. Glad it spoke to you, dear friend 🙏🏻🕊️
Thank you for taking the time to craft something in rhythm and rhyme. It was a delightful read in that respect. My favorite line: behind me, the porch talk sharpened to hate. Also: seasons that carve what no builder can. Very interesting wrap up with that last line.
Posted 6 Days Ago
1 of 1 people found this review constructive.
6 Days Ago
It’s inspired by the city promised to Abraham, one not built by human hands. Glad it spoke to you,.. read moreIt’s inspired by the city promised to Abraham, one not built by human hands. Glad it spoke to you, dear friend 🙏🏻🕊️
I was drawn in by the rhyme scheme here Freds, a finely crafted poem, but the imagery did it for me. I saw the journey of the refugee, in fact I saw many on their journey exhiled by the hatred of others into a place of opportunity and hope. So unusual to see such a structured piece from you. Takes time and effort to do this.
It took a while indeed, Chris. And perhaps sometimes going back to early days training keeps the eng.. read moreIt took a while indeed, Chris. And perhaps sometimes going back to early days training keeps the engine flushed and ready for other journeys. Thanks so much 🙏🕊️🕊️Freds.
1 Week Ago
Happy Easter Freds.
1 Week Ago
And a blessed one for you as well dear Chris🐣🙏🏻🕊️
Freds
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….socially awkward poet. Childhood stammerer… intentionally driven to writing rather than speaking. And yes, that’s where that vibe is sourced… so your kin.. more..