Losing it

For the dverse prompt.

Losing it

Amentalio beneath the pine trees
where the sunsplash and wave plash
ring with cicada-song.

Dimenticati i ricordi
the faces and the places
intaglio e impasto

who slips through the shadows?
When did they leave?

The wind blows through our fingers
only the colour of the sand remains,
the smell of the pines.



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.

45 thoughts on “Losing it”

    1. Thank you.
      I read yours last night and took away one meaning. Rereading just now I’m not sure. It made me think of a priest losing his vocation and not finding anything else. What was it you had in mind?

  1. This is deeply poignant, Jane. I especially like; “The wind blows through our fingers only the colour of the sand remains.”

    1. I’m glad you think so. The word has an Italian consonance, as if he’d been thinking of dimenticare. I admit, I had reservations about this prompt. We can all make up random words and give them intricate meanings, but that meaning remains known only to one person. It has no role in communicating anything.
      Just my thoughts, but I’m a believer that we should respect words, use them correctly, and if we make up our own, they should be constructed logically using accepted blocks of meaning. (otherwise I’ll shoot you)

      1. At least some people can read computer code. It’s like those made-up names in fantasy stories that follow no linguistic rules and no pattern except that they’re unpronounceable.

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