Wednesday August 5th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about something that is: fleeting.

Spent the day harvesting and preparing for this evening's market here in Osoyoos. Ended up being well worth the time and effort, as I sold all 22 pints of blackberries, all 6 pints of cherry tomatoes, almost all of the peppers and cucumbers I brought, and a few crates of fruit.

Could have done without the freezing cold wind for the last half of the market, but I suppose you can't win them all.

Rebecca came at the end of the market to help me pack up, so I sent her a text about half an hour before she was due to arrive asking her to bring something hot to drink (I was wearing shorts, sandals, a t-shirt, and a sweater - which I almost didn't bring). She showed up with a steaming hot thermos of tea and I am now deeply in her debt.


Our time together
Was never meant to last;
The days and nights
Always moved so fast.
Try as I might
I couldn't hold on -
There was no stopping
The onrushing dawn.
I tried to treasure
Each moment we knew;
Oh but the time,
The time it just flew...
And now, sad to say,
You're in my rear-view.


Greg said...

That sounds like good sales, though... since when are blackberries not fruit? :-P The wind sounds refreshing to me, but then I wasn't stood in it in the evening feeling underdressed, so maybe I don't get to comment on that.
There is a hint of sweetness in your poem, though it's as hurried as its subject matter :) I rather like that last line and the image it conjures up, and I like the rhyme choice and line length for conveying the general rushed-ness of the whole affair. Nicely done!
Oh, and I spotted the acrostic: "Ow, tat it! Tie, O tay" but I'm having trouble working out what part of the affair described that refers to ;-)

[Largely inspired by this]

Above the walls and the gate police
A pale hand stretches between the bars.
Just for a moment it seizes the sky
And seems to be holding the stars.

Caught in that instant the future is clear
I see cities falls, Kings die and men
Representing high office again.

The gate police move into action
Static crackles over radio noise.
The hand is pulled back and replaced
With the flag of the Baker Street Boys

Like a curtain descending too fast and too far
The vision is gone and my thoughts
Are stamped beneath jack boots to nought.

Beneath the streets in rooms kept unlit
We sing paeans to gods best unknown
But they're better by far than the Baker Street Boys
Who are calling this city their home.

Anonymous said...

Youth is a blossom on a tree.
It springs forth from cold wood,
Something magical in its power
And beauty. The brightness overcomes
Drab greys and deep browns.
But winter must come as well,
Bringing the harsh winds and frozen
Touch. One beauty is destroyed,
Only to bring forth another
In its wake.

Marc said...

Greg - hahaha, thank you for pointing out the acrostic. I like mine much better now that I see it :D

Love your poem, the first and final stanzas especially. Some really great imagery and atmosphere. Just really well done.

Ivy - that is really, really lovely. Haunting, almost. Great opening lines, I think they may be my favorite part of this one. Though the ending is pretty great too...