The wind is blue

I’m slipping this one in, a rapid sketch for the dverse prompt, before I go to bed. It’s been a busy day. I’ll be back to read tomorrow. Might even write something more coherent.

 

The wind is blue

like the grass at twilight,

by moonlight, in summer,

when the air trills with cricket songs

and the ghost pale cry of the tawny owl.

We listen

to the darkness creep,

the shadows spread,

and the things we see or not,

and the things we say or not are nothing

in this blue and dimly glowing night,

where the stars look down, or away,

and the universe slumbers.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

70 thoughts on “The wind is blue”

  1. “…and the things we see or not,
    and the things we say or not are nothing…”
    If you can write this well at bedtime, then you must be a genius first thing in the morning! This poem sings.

    1. Thank you, Abigail! It’s more a question of taking my brain out of gear and letting it roll. Without searching for words, sometimes the mind throws out what the poem needs without being asked.

  2. I was the same – slip in a poem and slip off to bed after an exhausting day. The threatened storm didn’t materialise but we did have rain so I actually got some sleep.
    I love the sounds of things we can’t usually see:
    ‘when the air trills with cricket songs
    and the ghost pale cry of the tawny owl’
    and the lines:
    ‘in this blue and dimly glowing night,
    where the stars look down, or away,
    and the universe slumbers’.

  3. This is so stunningly beautiful. I love the feel of how completely our burdens and expectations slope off into quietude of evening.

    “and the things we see or not,
    and the things we say or not are nothing
    in this blue and dimly glowing night,”

    I like the picture of how when we slumber, the universe slumbers. If we ourselves are the corners of the very universe through which it has achieved or been granted the ability to be aware of itself, then it makes sense that it should sleep when we do. So lovely.

    1. Thank you! This was a very quick sketch of a poem, just what I was feeling before calling it a day. I like to think we are part of the universe even if we persist on our suicide course, and when the universe breathes in, so do we.

  4. A beautiful sketch of the night. I liked these lines: “and the things we see or not,
    and the things we say or not are nothing
    in this blue and dimly glowing night,”

    I wrote about blue, too–but blue ponies. πŸ™‚

    1. Thank you so much, Lona! I remember writing that poem just letting the thoughts come out without any rearranging. It does make perfect sense to me now. A moment in time captured.

      1. It is interesting and beautiful how that moment has quietly invaded the space here in Alabama in my head. I am so grateful for this poem and hope my little joke about rainbows is ok. Loving what you do Jane

      2. I don’t mind your joke at all, Lorna. I know the kind of poetry you write and the other poets you admire. That you enjoy my poetry too makes me feel privileged. I write very simple poems with a very simple ideology. I’m pleased you put my stuff alongside poems I don’t actually understand πŸ™‚

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