Thursday, 5 October 2006

Losing Touch

The taste of the rain changes
losing the tang of salt
to take on the edge of metal

Glaciers crack like gunshots
as they crash down mountains
to flood the valleys.

Dazzling heat burns
migraines into tired heads
blurs our vision.

Darkness no longer smells
of honeysuckle
but of death.

Poetry Thursday theme - synaesthesia

For a poem on this week's Poetry Thursday theme of The Body, which also fits in with National Poetry Day's theme of Identity, visit my Alter Ego blog here.


Catherine said...

Well, it may be last week's theme, but it was worth waiting for - now I'm off to Alter Ego to check out your other poem.

January said...

Love that opening line, and what follows certainly lives up to the beginning. Nice job!

Mike Mc said...

I like the way that the stanzas inform each other and the ambiguities. I've read it 3 or 4 times and it is still fresh. Well done.

my backyard said...

This poem makes me think of global warming

twitches said...

That last stanza is killer.

Crafty Green Poet said...

HI everyone, thanks for your comments.

My backyard - I was thinking of global warming when I wrote it! (and acid rain).

Twitches - in more ways than one!

camera shy said...

nicely done

"Darkness no longer smells
of honeysuckle
but of death."

the last stanza is my favorite
i like to consider (morbid as it seems here) the smell of death. especially when paired with honeysuckle. a pairing i've not ever experienced. makes death seem sweet.