Pages

Thursday, October 30, 2008

When shadows move

This poem was inspired by a very brief incident. Staring out into my apartment building's courtyard, I saw the dancing shadows of leaves on branches moved by the wind. It looked to me like rows of hands clapping. I struggled a bit trying to capture it in verse -- a fact due either to a bit of rust or my current dark mood.

My shadow leaves
By Francis Scudellari

My shadow leaves
A frayed, feathered dying
Cast against facing brick

Layered shapes lit
By the down-slanted rays
Of west-directed sun

Blurring movements
Conducted by branches
Not far, but beyond view

The wind-tossed shake,
Shimmer, a rise and fall
Of one-hundred paired hands

All applauding
Re-told dramas un-scened
Nature's final curtain

Drawn close, thick folds
Tinged orange-yellow sad
In autumn's fading light

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

wonderful poem Francis you caught the scene perfectly..

Unknown said...

I read the poem first, then your introduction, then the poem again.

At first reading, I thought - sadness, wistfulness, not a clear picture, several images.

At second reading all was clearer, but it didn't matter.

Lovely poem.

S.L. Corsua said...

Reading this gives me the sensation of watching leaves move in slow-motion mode. ;) As regards wordplay, the second stanza is a strong favorite. Thank you for sharing this moment with us. Cheers.

Laura Brown said...

If I don't think of any of the words at all, the overall impression is cold/ shaded and lonely. I guess that is what a shadow is, in essence. An interesting piece of writing.

Jackie said...

Simply marvelous Francis, I have to agree with Robert...you caught the scene perfectly.

Anonymous said...

I interpreted this poem as some sort of wishful thinking, and a final acceptance of what has happened or what will eventually happen.

These are my own thoughts and as gadamer said, interaction; so you may have other things in mind.

This is what a poem should be, mysterious and can give various meanings to the reader.

My hats off to you.

Angela said...

This is a wonderful poem. I love the way you compare the tree and movement of leaves to the theatre stage.
Nice work:)

Francis Scudellari said...

@Confused Thanks Robert ... sometimes the simplest moments can captivate.

@Jakill Both readings fit with what I intended. There was definitely a sadness hanging about me when I wrote it, and the opening line was meant to evoke not just the scene but the sense of my own "shadow" passing on.

@S.L. You're most welcome ... I'm very glad you like it.

@Laura Thanks ... those are very fitting impressions.

@Shinade It took me a few tries, so I'm glad it worked out.

@Jena I think there's a sense of coming to terms with mortality. Finding beauty in the impermanent.

@Angel In a sense the experience described was like watching a movie, with the shadows projected on a brick wall of a screen. That lead me into the overall metaphor.