the wind hears us
vector drawing by illustrade at pixabay
the wind hears us
the night is falling
the wind is coming home
it carries with it
the smoke of burning weeds
from the fields
the sweet scent of a lit cigarette
the shrill squabbling of birds
in the trees coming home to roost
the sergeant's angry yell at a guard
hokkien profanities
the thud of helmets on soil
the clicks of emptying weapons.
a song wafts from a pocket radio
the lady singer crooning
love is a river that won't flow back.
someone says he misses home
the wind hears us, sighs
and nods in agreement.
15/06/2016
**********
“How often have I lain beneath rain on a strange roof, thinking of home.”
― William Faulkner
© cheong lee san ( dsnake1 ) 2018
19 Comments:
Ah, the wind hears all and carries messages to all. You included so many wonderfully vivid details. Some pleasant -and some not so much. Your work always provokes thought.
You paint so well that emotion of being soldier... I have only been it in peace, but I recognize that feeling of being disconnected from the world.
It is said, spirit is in the wind.
The sad laments of life carried on the wind. Interesting and powerful images.
This is incredibly evocative 💖💖 I can feel the ache and longing.. so palpable here in your poem.
Oh, how I am struck by "Love is a river that won't flow back." And those closing lines. Wonderful!
Wow, I love these:
"the smoke of burning weeds
from the fields
the sweet scent of a lit cigarette"
"a song wafts from a pocket radio"
"a river that won't flow back"
"someone says he misses home
the wind hears us, sighs
and nods in agreement"
"say something nice (or nasty)" ... Ha. Quite the invitation. :)
Well, glad you didn't consider this too late. This poem deserved to be written, even if it missed the prompt date. I so much enjoyed the mix of things the wind can carry.Such is life - a paradox.
Amen!
ZQ
What an unsettling poem so reminiscent of so many wars in the recent past. In it I felt those sounds of conflict being the usual way of life and the future unseen as only the present could be dealt and their children knowing nothing other than war.
I think this is a wonderful poem – so brilliantly evocative and immediate, in such apparently simple language. It put me right there among the sounds and the scents, beautifully conveying the bleak mood.
Mary,
thank you! :)
Bjorn,
sometimes in the service, it can feel like a different world.
annell,
oh yes, especially in our Asian beliefs. :)
Donna,
Thank you! :)
Sanaa,
:)
because there are much better things to do, like being with the family & loved ones.
The sense of smell comes through strongly in the opening lines - I like the way it transforms into sounds.
Evocative and powerful!
Sherry,
yes, it was a popular Chinese song back then.. :)
belle,
welcome, and thanks for your comment.
most of the comments are supportive and encouraging, but occassionally there are some nasty and critical ones. :)
Myrna,
i still have some older poems that still have not been posted, for various reasons. some i might want to rework, some i thought might offend certain people. :)
ZQ,
thank you. :)
This site was... howw do you say it? Relevant!! Finally I
have found something which helped me. Thans a lot!
Robin,
thanks for the insightful comment.
it's a good thing i need not fire a shot in anger, but the way we trained was to train for war.
Rosemary,
thank you! :)
Kim,
thank you.
yes, i think smells and sounds are what these scenerios are mostly made of. :)
ayala,
thank you! nice to see you again. :)
Very vivid. Thanks.
Greetings from London.
Thank you, Cuban! great to hear from you. :)
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