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Sitting on my Stoop

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2021

I looked up to see, what

I thought would be,

A sea, scraping on a beach. 
Instead, I saw the street

Running past my door. 

The drier leaves of winter 

Scraping hard upon concrete, 

Rustling in mistaken cadence, 

Like an ocean against a shore.

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last updated 26 October 2022 - 8:47pm
©22 January 2021 - 6:59pm — djtj
24 January 2021 - 2:21pm — allets
allets's picture

Both Hands Down

  • THS IS MY FAVORITE POEM WRITTEN BY DEBORAH T. JOHNSON! Bravo.
  •  I can hear those leaves on your concrete shore. ~allets~
  •  

 

 

24 January 2021 - 3:44pm — djtj
djtj's picture

Thank you

A short one. Thinking should I expand but might be nice to have short vignettes if life. 
thanks again. So happy you liked it.  

23 January 2021 - 12:07am — lyrycsyntyme
lyrycsyntyme's picture

I can hear the similarities

I can hear the similarities now, imagining it. I once lived on a street close enough to the beach to experience both sounds - the beach just a short walk away - till one day the sea really did come rolling by my front door.  But this brings back seasonal memories my senses rather enjoyed. Thanks :)

22 January 2021 - 10:34pm — word_man
word_man's picture

life away from the

life away from the shores,real life for most of us i guess

but dreams are great

ron parrish

24 January 2021 - 3:35pm — djtj
djtj's picture

I’m so close

Yet so far from the ocean. But at only 200 miles above sea level in Raleigh it's just a downhill ride. 

24 January 2021 - 3:40pm — word_man
word_man's picture

i guess where the heart is

i guess where the heart is ,is all that counts.i lived in burlington as a kid

worked in new bern doing some commercial job years ago

ron parrish