the rise and fall of a dog’s paws as it leaps
through the night, beneath the chill settling
on the shoulders, the summer drawing to
a close, an ending of all that enraptured
my thought, the fire extinguishes again in
the pinch of my thumb and forefinger, time
seems to be turning on my path again, I
can smell its perfume, a plot of my dreams
a movie seen on the TV one lone morning
the past tingles my skin and I wink, repeat
the steps once traversed, crumbling beneath
soon the land will run out and a trench formed
and a true end that be, the black dog heaves,
my feet take me to places unknown (yet known)
ubiquitous eyes trace all that happens, that is,
the fates die by my touch, diffusing into the blurs,
I turn into an Effigy, the moon howls, dreams sleep
.
The writer has the right to tell his tale in symbols.The reader has the right to see through those symbols as a part of his own tale.
HA's Place 
Beautiful and at the same time, lonely write, HA. I also love how you put it at the end regarding the symbolism and the relationship between the poem the poet and the reader.
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Thanks, Oloriel. It is quite peculiar that I received your comment just after when I had opened your blog, meaning to check if you have posted anything in the last two weeks. 🙂 Looking forward to reading your latest piece.
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I think about you often HA, and am often sad reading your poems. I think it would be lovely to sit and drink a cup of tea with you.
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I think that it would indeed be lovely if the fates devise such a meeting.
I feel that there is sadness only in thought. It can be shunned if only for a while, and that is when the miracles come alive. Do not mind me. Somehow, the late night has awakened the “hopeless optimist” in me.
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First on your sentiment at the end.. I think truly that any poem is created when it’s read.. (with the guidance of the poet) so much along my sentiments…the image you create for me (especially with the black dog) is a loneliness that’s close to despair.. really a poem that hurts a little to read.
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an interesting thought on becoming and effigy…which ties back to the flame extinguished between thumb and forefinger…the black dog…they all symbolize death to me….
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From the dog jumping through the night to the smell of burn, this is a poem that describes a difficult place to be in–hard to feel that desolation; effectively described. k.
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There is sadness in this, but I’m sure you will find your feet. Hope your studying is going well my friend.
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