Join the Neopoet online poetry workshop and community to improve as a writer, meet fellow poets, and showcase your work. Sign up, submit your poetry, and get started.

SUMMER RIFT

The haze of dawn is burning off
as my old truck comes to a slow stop
and I join it in a gentle cough
here at long ridge's sharp top.

Here the woods are mostly pine
with persimmons and a few cherry too,
a few draped in muscadine vines
with late summer sun now peeking through.

The door opens to humid air
and I groan a bit as I step out
causing a squirrel to fuss and stare.
I grin at him then look about.

An old logging road begins right here,
so with my staff I start my quest
(the excuse I use is scouting deer)
Late dawn air is heavy in my chest.

I don't have very far to go
until the pines change to hardwood
at a bluff above a streams clear flow
where a forgotten bridge once stood.

So I stop right at this in between
where pines turn into oaks and birch.
Looking to see what can be seen
I stagger feeling some kind of lurch.

I remain at the self same place
but the pines are just head high,
air cold enough to make me brace.
Bare hardwood limbs bisect the sky.

Then I startle at a long lost voice
telling me he's found the deer.
Shaking my head I have no choice,
my long gone brother calls me near.

Slowly I turn and there he stands
on a sand bar in the creek
boots sunk a bit in its wet sands
a smile stretching cheek to cheek.

The buck we'd trailed is at his feet
at the end of its death run.
I go down there with legs turned fleet
beneath a long passed autumn sun.

I slap his back at his good luck
then help get his prize up the steep bank.
we take turns dragging it toward the truck.
Hard work void any need to thank.

Another lurch....I'm old again
and wondering was this a dream?
It must have been I am no longer thin
"Where went the years!!" I want to scream.

I straighten my back and look around
at reality and then I sigh
for like this matured hunting ground
time has also passed me by.

Style / type: 
Structured: Western
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 

Comments

you leave a picture in my head; of people, woods and a way of life long gone. I guess that some day, this generation will look back on these times and say; "Wow, those were the days!" Your scansion is better today. ~Gee.
.

Please acknowledge critique and comments.
They are a vital part of our community!
Critique or comment today!

MY scansion is better? Lol. About time I guess. Thanks for the time to drop in for a read.....stan

author comment

A way of life I I've come close to but not quite. I can relate to times gone by for sure.
I was here now I disappear,

~Mark~

Having difficulty navigating Neopoet or having trouble with an understanding regarding Neopoet? Look for the Advocate badge and reach out to an Advocate.

I never thought such stuff when I was young...........must require age to gain such perspective. i know it Can't be the result of becoming wiser because I haven't lol. Appreciate your time to read and comment

author comment

I enjoyed your poem very much, and not just the scenery and descriptions, but at every moment I felt I was presently there.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

Connecting with the reader can sometimes be difficult

author comment

i enjoyed the poem
thanks for sharing

always remember to make a critique of other poems
using the hoe is not madness for nothing

Thank you for your kind words

author comment

I loved this poem it is filled with appetizing imagery. Luscious surroundings and imagination stir up fond memories of a walk through the forest. One little typo on 7th stanza 3rd line tp should be to.Thank you for this heart warming dreamy landscape. Like an impressionistic work of art.

B9Pat

Thanks for the eagle eye. I will fix that quickly. And i am pleased you enjoyed this scribble

author comment
(c) Neopoet.com. No copyright is claimed by Neopoet to original member content.