Who speaks up when the cold crashes in
When lizards go down under the earth to dream?
Den dwelling four leggeds fatten to retreat for winter
Leaving the monster man-made machines to roar and rumble
Upon the surface of tierra madre.
Turning cycles are subtle in the sandy-sparkled desert.
Heat departs, we open doors and windows wide
Relieved, appreciating the ending of sweltering temps.
Maybe it is
All about perspective.
Journal prompt: Write a poem about perspective. Then climb a hill, a tree, or even get up on a ladder and write from the view of elevation. Try the same exercise by climbing down into a lower level; use the stairs, go down into a ravine, or use your imagination to access this point of view. How does it change your perspective?
Copyright © 2013 by Susan E. Rowland original poetry & photography. All rights reserved