Memory of a thick white post, really a tree section in the front yard of a farm house


A Sacred Plinth

The wreath
is lively green
Lacquered Berries
Bursting brown cones
On the post
Which holds the
Farm bright lantern
Of Halloween
The Spring bouquet
Of Easter
The riot of roses
Of summer
The Indian corn
Of fall

A sacred plinth
The repose of
Generations of tradition
In a century farm house




Poetry by josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2011-12-18 at 17:33

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Sacred indeed, my friend.
I love this piece for the feast of seasonal images it brings so vividly to mind.
Applause!
2011-12-20


countryfog
"Generations of tradition" . . . what a rare thing anymore. How little sense of permanance, ancestry, inheritence and legacy most people have, or any sense of duty to educate and perpetuate a family's many stories. Your word "sacred" is not an exaggeration.
2011-12-18