Posted in Photos, Poetry

Portrait of a Traveler in 44

Or was it a light drizzle
Coming down
To us

He stepped out of the sage moss
Or was that his hair

Crossing dimensions
Spanning a distance
Unmarked by our heart
Strings and foolish things

Or was that the plan before?

Β© Poem & Photo by Jilly

Poetic Asides
dVerse Quadrille


A wild soul writing poetry.

33 thoughts on “Portrait of a Traveler in 44

  1. Sasquatch, tree spirit, specter. cherished memory–the list is lengthy as one re-reads this poetic puzzle; enjoyed it very much. You rocked the prompt & gave us a conundrum in 44 words; cool.


  2. Many years ago, I visited Oak Alley, a restored plantation in Louisiana. Standing beneath the enormous old oaks with abundant Spanish moss almost made me believe in dimensions crossed. I had a strong sense of deja vu. Your poem resonates with me!


  3. I like the questioning that weaves through this. I read this once with a creepy creature in mind and then again…something more political. Leaves much to the imagination and interpretation. Cool!


  4. I love the refrain “or was it/that” in this poem. And being from the Pacific Northwest, I can relate to the quandary of trying to decide if it’s mist or drizzle or perhaps it’s an actual spring shower.


    1. Ah! Your part of the world is on my visit list. I’m solar powered, but a week in the mist with a notebook… perfection! Oh yeah, and the stories about the bookstores & coffee shops call my name! Thanks for reading, Linda.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Lovely and mysterious. Perhaps a nature spirit, perhaps just a lone traveller … and perhaps your protagonists aren’t sure either.


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