I am that child! My grandma had a farm near the Ohio river. At night, we'd sleep with the windows open and you could hear the barges on the river. I'd lay and imagine the places they'd been or were going.
The water is covered with fog yet it has it's own margin and is clear cut. The rhyme and the rhythm flow so well that one can not help but think that there is more than just imagination behind the poem. Thanks for sharing.
The imagined sights and sounds from another place can captivate the imagination like nothing else.
ReplyDeleteTrue, Emma, whether it's fog horns on the river or a distant train whistle --magic.
DeleteI am that child! My grandma had a farm near the Ohio river. At night, we'd sleep with the windows open and you could hear the barges on the river. I'd lay and imagine the places they'd been or were going.
ReplyDeleteYou captured that feeling perfectly.
Thanks, Cherdo. You describe a lovely sound for a child to follow into dreams.
DeleteOh to rediscover that still-wild side, and all the magic it conceals...
ReplyDeleteWonderful. :))
Its fog informs our dreams. I believe it's in a constant state of discovery.
DeleteIs the other side ALWAYS wild?
ReplyDeleteSo far as it contains all possibility, yes. But it's pretty disorderly until we get there.
DeleteI like the movement from child to wild - a fitting pairing of words, too.
ReplyDeleteHave a lovely weekend, Geo.
Not sure we're ever entirely tamed --or should be. Best weekend wishes to you too!
DeleteI find the poem goes so well with the photo!
ReplyDeleteThanks Linda. Fog over water is a permanent memory.
DeleteThe water is covered with fog yet it has it's own margin and is clear cut. The rhyme and the rhythm flow so well that one can not help but think that there is more than just imagination behind the poem. Thanks for sharing.
ReplyDeleteAnd thank you, Munir. There is, as you say, more than imagination. There is a childhood behind the poem.
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