finnish garden
a long time since I've seen a real winter,
and now this photograph.
i'm sitting warmed by central heating
with casual clothes lightly covering
my chest and look out, aided by this lens's
view, on finland. the garden
still life of a childhood dream
of swings, and snowballs thrown
in jest at laughing faces, and this light
that hardly penetrates the dark, yet glows
of fires in the icy cold, the trees,
the virgin cover undisturbed
by foolishly treading angels - all
elements i could describe are parts
that don't add up to what i see
when through this photographic window
i watch the garden grow beneath the snow.
Poem #17
This is interesting. I was quite certain the author was referring directly to a photo that Jarkko posted of his garden after an early storm. I particularly liked the last line:
"I watch the garden grow beneath the snow." I think that this theme could be worked in earlier and some rather interesting things could be done. Good luck with this one.
Joe
"I watch the garden grow beneath the snow." I think that this theme could be worked in earlier and some rather interesting things could be done. Good luck with this one.
Joe
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- tom.d.stiller
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Hey Joe,Joe Way wrote:This is interesting. I was quite certain the author was referring directly to a photo that Jarkko posted of his garden after an early storm. I particularly liked the last line:
"I watch the garden grow beneath the snow." I think that this theme could be worked in earlier and some rather interesting things could be done. Good luck with this one.
Joe
this piece was certainly inspired by the photo you mentioned. I wanted to leave the discovery of the garden's growth beneath the snow to the reader, but you're right: I should've included some subliminal references to "spring", "evolution", "the wheel" before...
Tom
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The first question that comes to mind is;- what is "a real winter"? The writer takes us to some childhood memories through musing on an old photograph. This allows the reader to do likewise and recall something of one's own childhood. I am not too clear on how the last few lines connect to the recalled chilhood memories.
Cheers, Witty.

Cheers, Witty.