Old Injuries Cut Deep
The gorge a historic landmark in taos valley
cuts peacefully across the valley you stand on the bridge amazed at the depth of the
canyon
though the exact depth in feet is unknown to me from the bridge
the rio grand appears as a small ribbon winding its way through the gorge
you would never suspect what happened in this lonely valley or that you stand on
the edge of danger
it all happened many millions of years ago the plates slipped
the desert winds blow through the canyon with an eerie high pitched scream
like the sound of a banshee such old disturbances lie sleeping
waiting until the time is right everyone going about their business no one paying
attention to what is happening underground
unexpectedly there is an eruption shouting in the streets the magma has risen to the
surface
burst free cloud of ash still hangs over the valley the latest event happened
just a few years ago caught everyone by surprise sides were drawn
life goes on but it is not the same old injuries cut deep
December 7, 2017
7 comments:
There are layers and layers here...so many divisions in our world right now. I relish the symbolism but the descriptions and form as well. Much talent here.
We seem to be standing on opposite sides just screaming, just like that wind... why did we burn the bridges?
I like these phrases: "such old disturbances lie sleeping"
What was it that happened a few years ago? I love your descriptions of the magma rising and the plates shifting.
The magma has certainly risen to the surface Annell. Excellent symbolism.
Anna :o]
Old injuries do run deep.
This makes me think of kids that have been bullied finally snapping and doing something disasterous.
When no one deals with what is going on underneath, it gets really messy.
...the plates shifting. A cataclysmic change that left a canyon...sounds echoing. I relate to this in terms of the "metoo" movement happening right now. It is indeed a tectonic shift occurring in the very fabric of relationships and power.
Simply reading this as descriptive poetry, without looking at or for symbolism, is a pleasure in and of itself. Beautiful description here.
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