This cascade poem is inspired by the photograph taken from the train just before La Réole on the Garonne.
How long will clouds drift over in glory
The river, placid in afternoon light,
When the world has turned into darkest night?
Reach up to the burnished blue of the sky,
Touch the wind for its breath will soon sharpen,
How long will clouds drift over in glory?
Here in this moment of peace and still beauty
Is where I would live, where golden light falls,
The river placid in afternoon light.
All things will end, as geese leave the northlands,
Leave, so will we, but the dream will remain,
When the world has turned into darkest night.
Jane Dougherty Writes 
wonderful.
Thank you!
Yes or world has turned into Darkness Night, but the Dreams will remain
Let’s hope there will still be people left to dream them.
This is exquisite, Jane. A palpable melancholy.
Thank you, Michael 🙂 I’m getting to really love this form.
The title and that repeated line is solid gold. I also loved this;
Here in this moment of peace and still beauty
Is where I would live, where golden light falls,
The river placid in afternoon light.
You write out the best of observation and leave us all hungry to live in the light and colors you see with your imagination, making our dull world of plastic and concrete, a little more alluring and redolent of a better time before.
Thank you! Living in the city is getting harder and harder. I hang onto little bits of sunshine and concentrate on the details. I’m determined to find my peaceful corner before too long.
I cannot believe I used to live in a big city (London, UK) for a time, I just could not do that now I would have a breakdown. I don’t think smaller cities are so bad but the really big ones they frighten me in terms of the toxicity and noise and motion and urban pain. I totally agree with you.
The noise and the fumes are what get to me too. It’s never totally silent. there’s always somebody shouting somewhere, some bar throwing its customers out, car doors slamming. And you can’t see the stars;
Beautiful poem and photo. Let us hope that the dream returns after the world turns to darkest night.
Hope.