Friday, July 25, 2008

Golden Hour

July 24 089

A wood thrush throws down
her pretty song gentle as the light
filtered through a million layers of green.
Away from the scheduled
rules, routines, expectations
and disappointments
we wander from sun to shade
hand in hand.
Brother, I found something here -
a small rock we can kick or
toss into the creek.
The road is lined with
these rocks, the forest is full of sticks.
No one cares if we wave them.

-Andromeda Jazmon

The Friday Poetry round up is at A Year of Reading. Enjoy!

17 comments:

Linda said...

Thanks for sharing this lovely poem. It brought back memories of my two sons when they were younger. Sadly, "Nothing Gold Can Stay."

Julie said...

Beautiful.

a Tonggu Momma said...

I wanted to say thank you so, so much for your recent comment on my blog. I so appreciate you taking such time to offer suggestions. It helped tremendously -- you and another commenter named Carla really helped me put my finger on what was "missing" from the conversation. And, yes, the Tongginator has seen her share of racism, even at four.

Oh, and I think I recognize your user name from somewhere -- do you LibraryThing? :)

eisha said...

I like this very much. Especially the idea of the stones and sticks.

jama said...

Simply beautiful!

Elaine Magliaro said...

Cloudscome,

Lovely...and touching--both the photograph and the poem.

Tabatha said...

Really lovely! Thank you.

Ruth said...

Oh, this is wonderful!

Charlotte said...

aww...I always find it almost unspeakable touching when my boys walk together, holding hands...

Definatly the stones are tossed into the creek. If you ever come to my house, we can all go down to the stream together, and toss away.

writer2b said...

I love the freedom ("no one cares if you wave them") and the friendship. And the opening -- the wood thrush song -- is just perfect.

Wish I could live in more of these moments myself.

TadMack said...

Oh, Andi, I hope they never lose that love for each other. So many times boys don't touch each other, but when they're little, they haven't been taught to care.

And I love the idea of rocks and sticks. No one cares if they wave them! (Just don't run with them.)

Sara said...

I love the way Youngest is slightly looking up at Oldest as they search for adventure. Your photographs astound me each week. Poems, too, but today, I can't help falling in love with that picture. :)

Cloudscome said...

Thank you for all these kind comments. I love the way they are walking together holding hands and little guy is looking up at his brother too. I can almost hear the conversation. I am treasuring moments like this when the universe is in harmony and I get to photograph the magic.

Mary Lee said...

You did completely capture this moment, both with words and picture. Rare and beautiful. And lucky!

Kelly Fineman said...

Wonderful work, Andi. Are those your boys? They look so engaged with one another there.

Cloudscome said...

Yes Kelly, these are my two youngest sons Punkin and Buddy. Walking in the woods is one of our favorite fun things.

mayhem said...

This is lovely. The last six lines of the poem are the best. I think anyone could understand what conversations are like between excited young brothers from reading those lines. The picture is wonderful,too.