Comments below: :-)
In a message dated 09.19.03 4:32:45 AM, [log in to unmask] writes:
<< Poem About A Tree [How about the title Just a Tree? Or another?]
These trees are possible, but
they have the look of trees [skip they? Start with the word Trees? Trees
have the look of those deceived?]
that have been deceived.
Someone must have been telling lies. [You already told the reader this
through deceived.]
Autumn is the hardest season; [Skip this line?]
the smell of smoke in the evening
air disturbs them. They cling [Delete them?]
together, lock their limbs together. [Get rid of one together?]
Other worlds were possible, too,
worlds that might have contained [You repeat worlds here.]
tables and chairs, or frames
that contained paintings and glass. [I don't get the correlation between
trees and these things.]
There was a time when I tried to hide [Start with I tried?]
all this. How much truth can a tree stand?
On a September morning when sun is sure
to give way to rain, how much can it stand? [Plants need rain for sustenance
so why would this be a problem?]
That was the time when these trees [Start with these trees?]
believed themselves possible, before
they found their own route to knowledge
and the enjoyment of sun and rain.
For a tree full of knowledge [As tree of knowledtge?]
each leaf it drops in autumn [Try: each leaf dropped?]
hints at what might have been.
A naked tree is undeceived. [End here?]
Bare branches etch the whole tale
on the sky. Through bare branches itīs easy
to read the weather signs, like looking
through a frame, at a table or chair.
Mike >>
Shalom Mike,
I like the image of your tree; I think, by paring your words, it will
resonate your meaning.
kol tuv, Ryfkah
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