Villanelle exercise

Just a quick draft written during Can Sonmez's session in week 9.

A Year of Dry Seasons

The river's stones are piled bone dry
magnificent to look at, touch and climb.
Some seasons have no sense of country,

which is why the water's gone and why
the reeds are the spines of a broken comb.
The river's stones are piled bone dry

against the year's endless sunrise
and maybe tells us something of the times:
some seasons have no sense of country,

or its unlucky people's lives
and cloudless skies don't know to rhyme
the river's bone-dry stones

with the ruined fields, the brittle sties
a plywood bandage on the fences' lines.
The river's bones are piled stone-dry
by seasons with no sense of country.

George Ttoouli : 16 Dec 2010 19:14 |  Tags: Poetry Pop10-11 |  Comments (0) |  Report a problem