Wednesday, 25 October 2017

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.

Originally posted in 2006 for the Poetry Thursday theme of synaesthesia


12 comments:

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.

Magyar said...

__ So many are in that -trance- heedless to our pending dissolve. _m

heat crawls
through this granet trance
penguins sweat

eileeninmd said...

Hello, I agree with the comment above. This reminds me of Global Warming.
Well done!
Happy Wednesday, enjoy your day!

Sandy said...

A perfect description of what is happening. Also, a very powerful poem.

Caroline Gill said...

A powerful poem, Juliet. Thank you for re-posting.

Gwil W said...

Jan Fabre's "bones and glass" exhibition is in Venezia. The theme is the environment - bird skeletons and glass skulls the make point. I chose to photograph a woodpecker and put it on my blog to drive the point home. Thanks to blogger Magyar for making the connection for me to your poem!