Read Poems by Hilda Greenhough

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Flag Ship

A black cloud circles.
Man's doom is seen in the sky.
The storms at the ports,
Where trade and commerce soon die,
Ships and flags still floating by.

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Buhagiar Victor Date: 6/1/2024 11:19:00 PM Storms seem to be the order of the day. Wonder how Texas is faring.
Joseph May Date: 6/1/2024 6:01:00 AM Black clouds signal things to come, Nicely penned
Sotto Poet Date: 6/1/2024 5:33:00 AM Hilda, your poetry appears to be replete with foreboding significance. Well-crafted and captivating.
Kate Davies Date: 6/1/2024 1:10:00 AM Haunting and beautiful all in one, wonderful poem Hilda:)
Evelyn Judy Buehler Date: 5/31/2024 11:01:00 PM Your poem seems full of ominous portent, Hilda. Nicely written and absorbing. :)
Sara Etgen-Baker Date: 5/31/2024 5:03:00 PM I can't help but wonder if there's more than one layer to your poem. Like Gershon, do you see the demise of free trade with 'the storms at port.' Or perhaps the political storms in the port of America? Hmm. Definitely thought-provoking words. Hugs & blessing, Sarsa
Gershon Wolf Date: 5/31/2024 3:51:00 PM Chilling picture painted here, Hilda. Do you think that 'free trade' is dead and gone forever? Perhaps so... Or, rather, is your tanka referring to climate change's effect on commerce?... Much to ponder here. Thanks, Gershon

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