A wind blew through the almond trees.
The blossoms shook, the petals floated down
Past where I sat on the cliffs above the sea.
The waves reminded me a bit of the mounds

Of snow I’d left behind, if only for a week.
The locals though were wrapped in scarves and hats
Their faces long and pale as poplar leaves.
I watched the petals flood like cataracts

Into the sea. And then there was the roar
Below my feet or the wind that pushed
Away the fog which, ’til then, obscured
The bridge. That mass of steel, the twist

Of blacktop and wire, not orange but grey:
A spider-web across the gaping bay.

 

Daniel Rattelle is a poet and arts journalist from Western Massachusetts where he lives with his wife and two kids. He is the author of the chapbook Let Us Sit Upon the Ground (2017).


NOTE: The Society considers this page, where your poetry resides, to be your residence as well, where you may invite family, friends, and others to visit. Feel free to treat this page as your home and remove anyone here who harasses or disrespects you. Simply send an email to submissions@classicalpoets.org. Put “Remove Comment” in the subject line and list which comment or comments you would like removed. The Society does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or comments and reserves the right to remove any comments to maintain the decorum of this website and the integrity of the Society.

2 Responses

  1. J. Simon Harris

    This is really a beautiful poem. I love the imagery, and the backstory that is only hinted at, and the rhyme and rhythm complement everything. At first, I was a little put off that some of the lines weren’t in pentameter, since the poem seems to be a sonnet and most of the lines are in iambic pentameter. But after reading through it again, I think the variations work really well. The ending is also nice– this man-made structure emerging like a specter from the natural scenery. Very well done.

    Reply
  2. David Hollywood

    A smashing poem. A surprising ending, almost like an emotional shock. Well done.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.