“I have no news to tell you, for the days are all the same, I have no ideas, except to think that a field of wheat or a cypress is well worth the trouble of looking at close up, and so on.” – Vincent van Gogh
Waiting for the rain to stop to take my daily walk, I looked out the kitchen window and saw these berries, made redder by the low light and wetness. I’ve been trying out photography lately with a camera I’ve had stored away. I wrote a Slice about it on Tuesday.
Here is an invitation to write a small poem, one of noticing something new or something old in new light. Write a small poem in the comments and take a moment to read other poems. Leave encouraging comments. I hope you are all enjoying a peaceful Thanksgiving. It may look different this year, but it is still a time to give thanks. And my thanks go out to all of you who stop by my little corner of the world.
Within the walls
Margaret Simon, draft
of rainy days,
some things still sing
Praise.
Listen harder.
Reflections on the Teche 
Your photo is gorgeous, Margaret, and I love the depths of your poem. We all need to “Listen harder.” Here’s my response:
Before the final fall
rain glazes
berry-laden branches
a final, fleeting embrace
ah, the embrace…the berries have been waiting.
Beautiful.
That rain glaze is fleeting and beautiful.
I love the transitoriness of the contact between the rain and the berry. (Is that not a word? Transitoriness is getting underlined in red. Hm.)
Love that last line. I wonder if you are referring to the embrace of the berries on the stem or that one little (big) drop hanging on the berry.
ooooh. The good camera does not disappoint. Your eye is woke! Let the storytelling begin. Praise!
Fairytales
There’s always
a dark wood
outside a village
and a well.
A cloak-like fog
clings to shoulders
of a Royal someone
that has everything
anyone could wish for
except these forbidden
glowing
red
berries
I love the story in your poem, Linda! It’s so intriguing. That cloak-like flog clinging and the glowing berries create a wonderful atmosphere!
How you got a fairytale out of these red berries I’ll never know. That’s creativity!
I, too, love that you found a fairy tale here!
I agree with everyone else about your storytelling in this poem – exceptional! “A clock-like fog” is the perfect description here.
I love your poem. I’m listening as hard as I can. Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
Rinsing out my cup,
I see through the window
A moment of bright red drama.
Even if there is blood on the ground
The dishes will always need washing.
Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
(Hmm, that got a bit macabre…)
Bright red drama!
I always wait to read the poems until I have written my own, and this one took me by surprise! I, too, love “A moment of bright red drama.”
I have loved seeing your photos these past few days as I have taken small drives through social media. I’m trying to limit myself, but your photos and your words (always your words!) have helped me to pause like I am doing this morning by stopping by here.
Your call to “listen harder” is such a gentle reminder of all the things that are still singing.
My contribution today. This picture reminded me of the holly bushes we have and when all the birds gather around to enjoy.
the soft rain creates
morning nourishment
and a Thanksgiving feast
for our feathered friends
Love this connection of feasting to nature. Thanks for coming by.