A torrent of wind
along the riverbank roars,
runs through the poplars,
whirlpools of ocean laughter,
the voice of a thousand leaves.
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This stirred my memories. My mind had me running barefoot down that dirt road. Thank you.
I’m pleased it brought back good memories 🙂
Lovely. big poplar beyond my garden was cut down two years ago. I still miss the song of its leaves. They did sound like ocean laughter – the breeze tickling waves.
We had a friend who was obliged by a court order to chop down all her poplars. There were about 30 of them and the neighbour claimed he couldn’t sleep at night for the din!
Wow! That is amazing. I had no idea –why poplars more than other trees?
They make quite a noise in the wind. In the north of France they are called ‘trembles’ because the leaves shiver so much in the wind. When it blows hard they sound like the sea roaring, and if there are a lot of them…
Thank you for this interesting tidbit. 🙂
I love them, but partly because they are just a little bit overpowering.
Lovely poem, Jane. Sometimes when the wind comes through our trees I do think it’s water–and it does sound like the ocean, but the ocean laughing is such a beautiful thought.
I like the painting, too, but I’m curious about the men. There’s definitely a story there. 🙂
I think one of them’s saying “Get those trees cut down before I go insane.” and the other one’s saying “Over my dead body!”
Hahaha. I think they’re having an argument, too, but I don’t think it’s about the trees.
Go on then, what is it about?
Hmmm. . .I have to think about it a bit. I think there is some neighborhood gossip involved though.