Things
He was enamored by the way of things,
the color, the shape, the sound
and all that his senses could take in
whether the thing was large or small
or in-between or was superior
in the hierarchical order of things.
A raindrop clinging to a leaf
bloated with sunlight and about to fall,
the taste of celery, cold and sprinkled
with a little salt, all manner found a way
into his world where they were
given space to be,
some catching a glint of light
from places too subtle to find voice
within the limits of a word,
but only in things made
into something more, silhouettes
of symbol, simile and metaphor.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
