For yesterday, a revision . . .

. . . from the day before. Sorry, I couldn't move on until I'd worked on this some more:

Head crowded with voices from dreams
I stepped from my house this morning
into shivering air, trembling air, symphonies
of waxwings and robins, a percussion
of crows ... Why do we enter the future
with the past in our night pockets? Trees
shook with squirrel passions; goldfish
drifted from the pond's dark bottom
into pale water. At dusk the mountains
were scarved with mist.

 

 

Comments

[Jordan Reynolds]

I like the revision. The poem has been whittled down to its most essential parts.

I love the "night pockets," truly a wonderful little group of lines you have there.

I also really enjoy your haiku forms. They are delightful little poems that pack a tremendous punch.

Thanks for sharing.

-Jordan Reynolds

www.sanstimelines.blogspot.com

[Dave]

I really liked "reacquainting themselves with the surface." Maybe you can recycle it into another poem?