|
In the Real World
by Ronald A PavellasI am here again
In a forest
A forest new to my eyes but familiar to my soul
We know, we know each time we leave the city
Just for a while, a part of a day, thats all,
How it is when we return to the Real World
This world has moss-laden, ancient rocks
Still rising after the glaciers departure
Blueberries and lingonberries
Over-ripe in their last days
Broken, dead branches giving life to the soil
And sheltering small beings
The beautiful heather of the northern climes
The stands of tall and silent pines
The insolent mushrooms at their feet
The lazy insects of early autumn
And this wanderer,
Replenishing his store of stuff we cannot name
Because there is no name
For what happens to a wanderer in the forest
In the Real World
09/22/2005 Posted on 09/22/2005
Copyright © 2025 Ronald A Pavellas
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Heide McAlister-Bates on 09/22/05 at 02:43 PM Excellent. I live in a very urban area, and often long for escape to the Real World. Thanks for illustrating it so beautifully. |
| Posted by Charlie Morgan on 09/22/05 at 04:56 PM ...ron, as we touch, ahem reality...do we reallllly...you say so in a good way...if we experienced reality Bro. Dave Gardner [a fifties comdeian] says:
'we'd probably run and hide'...he was right...reality is a mutha!!! ...peace, chaz |
| Posted by JD Clay on 10/11/05 at 04:45 PM This pastoral piece exudes tranquility, Ron. The natural setting, far from the fray, sets the tone and allows the reader to escape, if only for one ephemeral moment. I also like your artful depiction of the wanderer, something that exists in all of us.
pe4ce... |
|
