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
chiaroscuro¬—
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.
Lamenti.
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Jane Dougherty Writes 
I feel the shadow melancholy in your words… but there should be brightness as well in chiaroscuro
There is. That’s how you see things…and then you don’t.
Mmmmmm..after the drama, comes that lovely ending, the wonderful aroma…I enjoyed that very much…
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?
Yes!!! Thank you so much…
Is that what you were getting at? Once I had that impression it was hard to get another.
Just wanted to add the “mmmmm” was my appreciation transcribed…I realise it just might be misinterpreted.
Not at all 🙂 Though I’d be in favour of more critical comments. Not sure that’s the majority opinion however.
Nicely done Jane.
Thank you, Linda.
This is deeply poignant, Jane. I especially like; “The wind blows through our fingers only the colour of the sand remains.”
Thank you, Sanaa 🙂
At first I thought you were writing about the tree. I wonder if forgetting is merciful but the jury is out on that.
I suppose it depends on the memory. They say we blot out the unpleasant ones anyway. It’s the ones we want to keep that make us sad when they start to fade.
❤
So delicate and nuanced. I love the emotion it evokes.
Yes! ‘Nuanced’ is the word I was thinking of too, Jane. I second Grace’s comment.
❤
David
Thank you, David 🙂
Thank you. It’s the kind of feeling we probably only get when we’re older. I doubt young people notice memories slipping away.
Brief, poignant, sweet, like a memory slipping away even as it arrives.
Thank you. I pleased you think it captured the spirit of the word.
I like the smattering of Italian words to highlight the emotional tone of the poem, it works really well.
Thank you. I imagined the author of the book was inspired by the Italian for his new word, amentalio.
Oh did the author make up the words? I didn’t realise!
Yep, they’re just inventions, so I suppose we could contest the meaning 🙂
Beautifully done Jane!
Thank you 🙂
The photo is exactly how I imagine my mind these days. Light shining through a tangle of branches., leaving more room for the wind. (K)
They’re compelling. I wasn’t sure why before, but I think you’re right. Letting in the light, letting the wind blow the cobwebs away.
What we let go of willingly, we don’t regret but what we hold on to, when that begins to slip, it becomes scary.
I suppose we all feel that if we forget parts of our past, it’s as though they never happened, and we tend to identify with the past far too much.
So true. We allow past to have a great bearing on our present.
And we misremember, think everything was wonderful.
We do have selective memory…perhaps the smell of pine and cicada-song can help clarify our thoughts.
We hang onto what we love most, I suppose.
cinematic. your pen reminds me of the open and close of the movie version of The English Patient ~
I haven’t seen the film, but I’ve just looked it up. Set in a hospital in Italy, that would fit. My strongest childhood summer memories are of Italy.
“Amentalio”
Nice word.
Much💟love
Thank you xx
The prompt word just lent itself to the Italianate lyricism of lamentation and light among the passing. Simply lovely, Jane.
Pax,
Dora
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)
I agree, Jane. They didn’t touch any part of me anymore than a piece of computer code.
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.
I like your writing and the gallery of pictures!
Joanna
naturetails.blog
Thank you 🙂 I ought to change that gallery. It’s been around a while now.