landscape / Poetry / Uncategorized

The Scene

Let’s write a dim, pastoral scene

at the edge of a cliff

far from

a city of swans

then perhaps,

relive the scene

from its origin

and not hide

in half-sewn shadows

but let the scene play out

as it should

with the smell of pine trees

and the pulse of poetry

where lamps will

not light the way

instead, we must

descend steps in darkness

feeling for them

in open air

one by one

beyond the cusp

where fact and fiction blend

on a day born of sultry skies

and misty reality




46 thoughts on “The Scene

  1. Lana, this is a delight with a play about the blending of fact and fiction…lovely fall and lift to the poem, beautiful and lyrical. May we all experience that ‘pulse of poetry’ in our creative lives! 😀

      • Well, as recently I discovered in my own life: our “wells” of resources may come up dry, for various reasons. I have been happily dating someone who has been special, kind, warm and intelligent. For some reason we developed a symbiotic (yet not healthy) relationship where his daily rants or complaints across in texts to me. So hard to be original, positive and resilient, so I had to ask him to lean on others to listen from time to time. . . Of course, work drains another part of my “well!” I am not comparing my non-writing posts to your craft of writing. 😀

      • Robin, I think we all draw from that well in our writing craft. You are also a gifted and compassionate writer. Oh, the things that drain us…I’m amazed I can write my name sometimes. I’m back to teaching and care giving for my 85 year old mom. I don’t know why some men have to vent like that. My former spouse decimated me emotionally, I finally had to end it. It has been very different and difficult for me financially, but at least in the clarity of mind department, I’m better off. Hugs, xo.

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