Awhile ago I posted a poem I did as an exercise to write something based off/inspired by another poet. H is for Hawk’s Shadow and Hidden Handprint
Another poet I researched and did the same exercise for is Wendell Berry. This time it wasn’t based off a specific poem of his, just his work in general.
“It is not from ourselves that we learn to be better than we are.” -Wendell Berry
There was a time when we
Would walk along the garden path
And catch the pollen floating
On outstretched tongues.
But now our hands are separated.
And the grass once fresh and green-
Replaced by brittle sand, sucked dry
By too much time apart from moisture,
Too much time exposed to heat.
There are some photographs we have
Of the trees that used to shelter us
From the sun when it was hot and angry,
And of the vibrant colors of delicate petals
That would dance when provoked by wind.
But a picture of how we used to know this land
Is of no use to our preservation.
We spent all our care on the reassurance
That we would remember this beauty,
Instead of saving it for more than
A nostalgic memory on cloudy days.