Barren

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

 

Barren

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.