a day last summer

[mb]

here the
fallow field has fallen into
weedy desolation
see the
swallows painting shadows on the
grey barn walls
hear the
corrugated roofing in the
torrid sun ticking while
molecule by molecule the
farm house falls.

[judih]

molecules add up
sawdust paintings tell the tale
ants build underground

[Perdida]

this was like a painting on canvas come alive.

enjoyed the sounds, the visuals and the feeling here.

great work.

smiles

[mnaz]

cool. I love this sort of stuff. I want to write a few more of these type of scenes, maybe from the urban/industrial decay angle-- "urban deserts" ha.
good rhythm on this one too. enjoyed.

[constantine]

yes, i agree with the above comments. it is like a painting - a composition of elements - each relevant - each essential.

[SadLuckDame]

I gotta tells u mb, this line here~
"swallows painting shadows on the
grey barn walls "

Just did something to my head, it was rather glorious. It sure did paint.
Thanks much to you.

[mb]

thanks everyone, much appreciated. SadLuck, 'swallows' is the core line that patiently waited in my notebook thru summer and fall...

-mb

[hester_prynne]

A falling house like never before.
Light words.
Around something universal, and powerful.
Enjoyable to the core.
H

[saw]

americana at its best here stripped down to bare essentials, i like the way the scene is given life within its death ( if you know what I mean)
the corrugated roof is still alive, its arthritic bones still creak...nice !

[mb]

hester and saw, thanks for your thoughtful comments. the scene is etched on my mind and I hoped to draw out some understanding of it.

-mb