Lovers of Valdaro
for the mystery
of our being we
collared the earth
as home, a
shadowed sepulchre
of dust-cloaked
embrace; therein
dwells the fallow
of my heart,
hollow like thunder
in a valley, chest
upon chest
pulsing echoes of
time's sweet silence,
the truce
of pain.
Poem © 2011 by R. Burnett Baker
Photo of remains of Neolithic "lovers" discovered near Mantova, Italy in 2007.
Photo taken by Pasquale Sorrentino.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
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Oh, I so like this!
ReplyDeleteI'm lovin' that word "fallow" this week. Beautiful.
ReplyDeletenicely done...a bit creepy in perspective but an eternal embrace...
ReplyDeleteA striking photo, and the poem expresses it well.
ReplyDeleteI love how truce sounds like truth.
ReplyDeletehttp://ficklecattle.blogspot.com/
A beautiful dark valentine. I enjoy and appreciate your style.
ReplyDeletetime's sweet silence
ReplyDeleteWe'll never really know
Sometimes looking at something like this photo stirs "the why, the when ,the where" of things...fill in the blanks
it's rather a touching scene if you fill in the blanks just so
Oh and thank you for your kind words on my haiku...a thousand haiku and maybe one hits it
such is the form that thrills me
a difficult challenge...
Gosh! this is a real Saint Valentine's card to be sent in an eternal embrace beyond bones and dust
ReplyDeletewow, haunting.
ReplyDeletedivine poetry.
I cried near the end. You know, I am sucker of poems like this whose elements of happiness do not expire. A timeless piece, Rick.
ReplyDeleteI am reading this again. Rick, it seems like you're my older self *tears*
ReplyDelete