As the Old Oak Flinched

The old oak flinched
in the kick-start wind.

He looked up
with a vacuous grin
and watched a nest lapse
from the crest
of a copper branch.

His raking thoughts turned
over and over again
like a rusty engine,
doggerel and pinched
and, like his eyes,
dusty and dim
and lifeless.

His head was cocked
against his purple hand,
held up like a kickstand.

He watched from
his sweaty bench
as beads of light
stretched and bent
and yawned across
the tawny lawn...

as the old oak flinched
in the kick-start wind.

Poetry by pok-a-dolt
Read 278 times
Written on 2016-04-27 at 11:39

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Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Amazing. delightful, charm in your gift of writing! Gift? I know it is gift with work and study and yearning for knowledge and desire for creation. Your sharing here is a gift for this reader. Thank you. Kathy

Jamsbo Rockda The PoetBay support member heart!
Wonderful. I love the language and the way it flows. I love this kind of honest poetry.

Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
I enjoyed the read, the old oak made me smile as he weathers yet another wind

Elle x

Much enjoyed, I especially liked the second stanza, great line "and watched a nest lapse."