Sinking Soil

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Poem Commentary

It's my interpretation of death after life after death

Sinking Soil

You can see his heart pulsating

From the lips of the vine

And strands of blossoms

Covering his face

Shielding

Protection

Holding him in place

As immovable as the thickest Oak

 

His eyes close

As he breathes a shaky breath

Filling his lungs with the absence of life

That surrounds the forest

Where naked trees stand

Leaning slightly

 

Chipmunks gather at his feet

As his arms outstretch in every direction

Commanding them,

Their cries fill his every sense

Cracking his dry eyes open

Scanning each individual face,

Though they all look the same.

 

These woods are tainted

Every inch sinking bit by bit

The soil is softened

His knees go weak,

But he holds his ground

He can feel it now

They all can

 

A shrill cry releases from his bones

As he, too, disappears

Bit by bit

Blackened by the hollow

The vines that once spoke for him

Caving him in

As the earth takes hold

Claiming him as its own

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Poetry is what gets lost in translation.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

SatyrenTheCure’s Poems (34)

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