Darkness Of The West Comments
A place so alive in its own loneliness. Alive with
Big bleak rocks that stare awkwardly as suspended
Erratics alone on hills or as clusters in dead fields.
Or perhaps alive with the awe of countless sheep
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hey! I'll trade you these cold indiana roads for your connemara field for a while! i lost my swan feather i found near a misty lake there... the middle of january in Ireland...and the tree on the island in the lake a bare skeleton silent in the pounding winds.
Sean, this is a beautiful poem with so much soul. Thanks. Raynette
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7/19/2025 11:40:44 AM # 1.0.0
Dear Sean, What I've perused of your poems so far this one moved me the most. Strong employment of imagery and metaphor. An engaging 8 from me.