Childlike, I put my hand before my face.
The moment is too gold, it hurts my eyes.
The gesture of your shadow takes my breath.
I walk as if I moved through heavy cloth.
Geese honk dissonance over old tin roofs.
Sunset is borne away on beating wings.
The sound of my name on your mouth is harsh.
Hands chafe the smoking hour into a flame.
Peviously published, 'World Poets Quarterly', China
wonderfully done, great metaphors used, and so much conveyed in mere 8 lines
Rich evocative imagery abounds to reveal a beautiful rekindling of love. The discordant echo of the geese and the harsh calling of your name soon dissipate as 'Hands chafe the smoking hour into a flame.' A wonderfully lyrical write Sandra.
As ever evocative images painting a lonely scene Where human warmth and comfort escape Like your geese over tin roofs. Uriah Hamilton
sandra, i love it. Thanks so much for the cd. i had received it.
You say so much in so few words. The ability to do that is a rare thing, I often ramble on when I should just stop, but you have mastered the art so perfectly. I love the geese sounding their dissonance. They are a mighty sight flying off to warmer climes. Wonderful poetry, always here, Sandra. HG: -) xx
You share the pain of love with eloquence and artistry in this fine poem. Ironic that a poem titled dissonance should resonate with such harmony. Beautiful as ever, Sandra. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
the composition- rich in raw emotions, evoked by images that eloquently express the pain. Mamta
An artful selection of rough images to reinforce the pain of an unfortunate encounter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Awesome imagery and transferred epithets. The truth is some where in between dissonance and assonance. Innocent ‘hands chafe the smoking hour into a flame’ and the ‘sunset is borne away on beating wings’. The music of life varies between love and hate, either of the two is monotonous and intolerant. The poem exhorts the reader to ruminate. An enchanting poem Sandra. Regards, C. P. Sharma