By georgelstein


Providence smiles, and the sea returns treasures long lost
forgotten, they appear as gifts, entangled
but in the dark before the dawn,
gears gnash, truths bared, stars collide,

in the place where plains and marshes reign
the land has been smoothed by hand and by time
freshwater bodies sustain superstitious beasts of iron
roads cross at odd angles before paling and dropping away

and her blonde hair gently teased
falls down,
across her tall and broad, uniformed shoulders
scatters over her utilitarian,
burgundy Strack and Van Tills coat
like jellyfish tendrils bleeding sunlight
falling freely and freely floating
in the inviting salt waters
of an evening, summer tide
somewhere well along the Keys
turn, don't turn,
to the rising sun, like a diamond revealed
in some hoosier farmer's fertile bean field

the retreating snow, cold, spring rains fall
in the silt and sand, gleaming blood and regret
earthworms serpentine and twist
a billion freshly provoked tentacles
firm, red macintosh and crisp, granny smith,
fondled, then squeezed,
tightly twisted and suffocated
trophied into their own separate, transparent bags,
fruit forgotten save for the root cellar
stay, don't stay, but hurry,
one must not linger
lest everything perfect, everywhere, becomes undone

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2015 georgelstein
Published on Tuesday, December 29, 2015.     Filed under: "Poetry"

Author's Note:

this is changed, darkened. beauty that is observed and made ugly by contact or recognition; still the fragility of beauty and perfection
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Comments on "harvest"

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  • soul_versing On Tuesday, December 29, 2015, soul_versing (959)By person wrote:

    Your appellation is my paintbrush and your designation is my watercolors. I adore reading your works because you have a tendency to make me feel something much more than I anticipate. ...Bows to you. --Bows indeed Scholar

  • georgelstein On Tuesday, December 29, 2015, georgelstein (64)By person wrote:

    Maybe then these are just for you, tattoo. Thank you so much. And I think you've just started a new poem of your own. Thanks for the affirmation.

  • TropicalSnowstorm On Thursday, December 24, 2015, TropicalSnowstorm (1790)By person wrote:

    "and her blonde hair gently teased falls down, across her broad, uniformed shoulders...like jellyfish tendrils freely falling and floating in the warm saltwaters of an evening, summer tide..." Wonderful imagery! I love the how the piece moves from the ancient to the modern and brings signficance to the seemingly mundane. All of us are part of a cycle...the formation of lakes...the harvest of apples...the fascination at the way a woman's hair falls across her shoulders... This cycle precedes us, will exist after we are gone, and yet our individual experience is unique and wonderful and will never be experienced exactly the way we do again. Great piece! Ciao, T/S Scholar

  • georgelstein On Thursday, December 24, 2015, georgelstein (64)By person wrote:

    thank you sir, I was hungry for your thoughts on this one. Much obliged.

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