Three poems

Three ways to say the same poem. Or is there just one way, and the others are facets, shadows that it casts?


The world has shifted, all the summer gone;
The swallows that turned sky to ocean flown,
Turned wind to waves the length of summer days,
And with the turning wind, like dry leaves blown.
Beneath this sky of knotted winds and drifts
Of cloud, we stand our faces to the west,
To bathe in sunset’s fire, as summer fades,
And put the light half of the year to rest.


gone, swallows flown
that turned the wind to waves,
and with the turning wind, like dry
leaves blown.
Beneath this sky of knotted winds
and drifts of cloud, we stand
as summer fades
to rest.


Gone summer,
swallows and their wind-waves
blown leaves in the knotted sky.

We raise sun-fired faces
to the coming dark.


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.

35 thoughts on “Three poems”

  1. This is really a cool approach, Jane. My personal favorite is the middle one that has a nice lyrical flow to it without having to worry about rhymes. It also seems to have a more positive tone to it–albeit somewhat wistful–than the third one, which ends with the word “dark.”

    1. I suppose for me, the first one is the ‘real’ poem and the others are spin-offs, taking a bit of the original but they stand in the shadow. Anyone who prefers very brief, imaged poetry would probably look at it from the perspective of the shortest poem being the core and the other two inflated versions of it.

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