Mist Or was it a light drizzle Coming down To us He stepped out of the sage moss Or was that his hair Sodden Saddened Crossing dimensions Spanning a distance Unmarked by our heart Strings and foolish things Or was that the plan before? © Poem & Photo by Jilly NaPoWriMo Poetic Asides dVerse Quadrille
Portrait of a Traveler in 44
Jilly's 
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.
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Thanks, Glenn! Go with whatever you see/feel – that’s the beauty of poetry in my dictionary 🙂
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Feels mossy and Ent-like!
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🙂 Thanks for reading! That was the mood I was going for.
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So many possibilities Jilly but then if one is a traveller, no one path is the surest way to travel ~ Thanks for joining us ~
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🙂 Thanks for reading!
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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!
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So glad you feel that resonance, Bev. That is what makes poetry art! You’ve made my day! ( I live in Florida, so the feel is much the same as Louisiana!)
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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!
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Yee ha! I love it when everyone sees something different based on their own eyes. I teach my kiddos the importance of the reader completing the circle of art. 🙂
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I wonder what it was crossing those dimensions as long as it isn’t too hungry after that journey.
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HAHA! It is up to your imagination – which is considerable, my friend 🙂
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There’s a plan? 😉
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Hmmm – um… there is always a plan… I think. 😉
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You do mood-weather well! I love the words, love the tone… the mood. Brava, Jill!
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Tanks a ton, Charley! 😉
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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.
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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.
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It’s a beautiful place to visit, that’s for sure. And to live, though I could do with a few more sunny warm days.
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Nicely written.
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Quite a spectre. I wrote a poem like this once I think but yours is quicker, with a living pulse and not quite so spectral as mine. I liked this very well.
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Do you have it posted? Link me? I would love to read it. This one was confined by the prompts & the form and that is often a very good thing for me.
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I see a time traveler with a message in this piece. It almost has a shamanic dream feel to it.
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I’m glad you enjoyed reading; thanks for stopping by!
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I like the uncertainties in this, like walking through a mist. All outlines blurred.
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Thanks, Jane! You grasped the mood I was going for! Glad you stopped by, Jilly
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🙂
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felt I was reading about a changeling child left in the between the branches of a tree, the mist was very magical.
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Thank you!
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Lovely and mysterious. Perhaps a nature spirit, perhaps just a lone traveller … and perhaps your protagonists aren’t sure either.
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Thanks for reading! I love that it is up to each reader to go with their own filters.
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Always intrigued by poetry that hints at the idea that time has many misty layers. ❤
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Thank you! As do I. I see it, at times, as a circle, also. Mysteries of this life…Glad you stopped by 🙂
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