On the hour of wilting summer

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I thought of time ‘neath the paling
amber sun wondering about clocks,
about what they are meant to give.
What trouble paints a bystander’s 
face? What hour takes and what if 
it was too late?

I wondered where had lovers gone
knowing soon white-flowered grass
would be stained with woe—
I wondered if pain had turned into
a cloud, knowing none had heart
to whisper dread out loud—

I sought to lie beneath a questioning
sky, learning time was a cold swirl of
wind, a language which stirs the soul
even after sorrow remains.

 

Photo credits: Clock of the academie francaise, Paris.

I chose to write about the ‘Great Depression’ in France.

Posted for ‘Camera Flash’ @ Real Toads

and on ‘Poetry Pantry’ @ Poets United

and Monday Writes @ My Blog- Verses

verses

56 Replies to “On the hour of wilting summer”

  1. I love the questions here and can feel the despair running right through…..
    like here “….I wondered if pain had turned into
    a cloud, knowing none had heart
    to whisper dread out loud—…”

  2. a language which stirs the soul
    even after sorrow remains.

    Feeling of sorrow is difficult to dismiss from the mind especially if it is for someone dear to one’s heart!

    Hank

  3. I enjoyed the meandering of thought and wondering about time in your poem, Sanaa. I love the play on the ‘clock / face’ in the lines:
    ‘…wondering about clocks,
    about what they are meant to give.
    What trouble paints a bystander’s
    face?’
    and the link between Paris and love in the lines:
    ‘I wondered where had lovers gone’.
    The underlying sense of there being so many things we cannot know is very strong.

  4. I wondered where had lovers gone
    knowing soon white-flowered grass
    would be stained with woe—

    This is a very touching poem, Sanaa. It inspires contemplation.

  5. Yes, this time of respite between two world wars really was too short for France but strangely the arts thrived in this period. A really beautiful but sad poem Sanaa.

  6. Beautiful poem! Deep questions allied to masterful lyrical verse. To me, it doesn’t obviously suggest ‘the great depression in France’ – but I don’t think that matters. It has wider scope.

  7. I wondered where had lovers gone
    knowing soon white-flowered grass 
    would be stained with woe—
    I wondered if pain had turned into
    a cloud, knowing none had heart 
    to whisper dread out loud—

    Sigh .. heartwrenchingly gorgeous! 💙

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