Glass is never clear
here in the desperate dust
that scratches and clogs.
Plains stretch forever with distance.
A lone horseman plods
where his ancestors roared
to the mountains,
light glinting on the metal
of their weapons,
shadows beneath them.
A photojournalist stares
through her grimy lens,
dreaming shadows into being,
blinded by light
glaring through glass.
She cannot see the mountains
so the lone horseman plods
forever into nothing.
All that is clear
is she does not belong here
and can never convey
this reality.
Previously published in Curlew magazine and featured in my pamphlet Unthinkable Skies.
First posted on this blog in July 2008 for Read Write Poem
This converys a very vivid picture - I especially liked the idea of her trying to dream shadows into being
ReplyDeleteSome great images here - mostly of the mind rather than reality. It is usually thus with us humans, me thinks.
ReplyDeleteVery nice--I adore the line, "dreaming shadows into being!"
ReplyDeleteThat the horseman, through the lens, goes into nothing outside of the context of time, his context, this is brilliant. Says something important about what we get of the world through the media. This is a great poem.
ReplyDeleteinteresting concept
ReplyDeleteI like dreaming shadows into being too.
ReplyDeleteI love the message here:
ReplyDelete"She cannot see the mountains
so the lone horseman plods
forever into nothing."
An interesting take on the prompt.
This is fun. To me, it's like seeing the same scene twice -- once in each stanza -- like two eyes with slightly different views through the same pair of binoculars. Great with the dust, grimy, scratches, and the alliteration. I enjoy this a lot.
ReplyDeleteOne gets a real sense of the bleak landscape from both the visitor and the one who lives there. I very much enjoyed the imagery of hot and dry dusty plains. Well done Juliet.
ReplyDeleteIt's kind of strange, we must be on a similar wavelength, because I wrote about dreaming shadows into existence, sort of.
ReplyDeleteYou create a scenario and an atmosphere of beauty and mystery, with a photographer observing a rider, and his relationship to the landscape. Evocative.
sharing the space, and yet living in different realities... excellent!
ReplyDeleteI like the way you introduce the glass at the beginning, but make us wait to the second verse to find out what this image is about!
ReplyDeleteit is a surreal imagine conveyed...plains stretch forever... dreaming shadows into being.. whether it is a glass lens or a writers pen.. all that is clear
ReplyDeleteI can relate. I feel as though I don't belong, also.
ReplyDeleteWhat I really liked was how in this instance, the presence of light actually made it more difficult to see clearly, which was a lovely departure from what one usually thinks about light. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteThe imagery in this poem is amazing.
ReplyDeleteI like this. It creates suh great images inside my mind!
ReplyDeletei've read this a few times now, and it gets better with each one!
ReplyDeleteGood work! I haven't done a poem in ages!
ReplyDeletewonderful poem :D
ReplyDelete