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The prompt for today is posing "questions" without giving answers. This has been revised as at first I gave answers.
Who gathers of an evening taking in the new moon and Mars?
What is it about words and pictures?
When will I be loved again?.
Where does the scent of drying flowers come from?
Why, won't you please come in?
How many solitary meals sitting in the chair by the wood stove remain?
Mostly, I wonder, why isn't everything fair under Heaven?
You hooked me with the solitary meals by the fire--a solid reminder of our mortality; generally there is a lightness to the piece, but with an undercurrent of serious inquiry; smile.
ReplyDeleteHmm...I am glad you like it.:-)
DeleteI liked how you phrased the questions about being loved again and the number of solitary meals.
ReplyDeleteI can see the theme of questions running through the poem, and yes the solitary meals becomes so touching... Love how you have used the question words.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Bjorn.
DeleteLoved your questions....they are really touching...!
ReplyDeleteSuch a chasm between solitude and loneliness. Your words are so poignant, and I can relate. How fortunate you have the talent to express yourself, and how fortunate to have so many cyber-friends to enjoy your poetic expressions.
ReplyDeleteThank you! Yes...I am grateful.
DeleteMostly, I wonder, why isn't
ReplyDeleteeverything fair under Heaven?
This is the most 'searching' question I would think Kathy! It will impinge on almost all types or sorts of situation!
Hank
It is, isn't it? :-) Thank you, Hank
DeleteOh, such a lonely piece. Such sad questions.
ReplyDeleteThe drying flowers got me thinking. Poignant questions indeed ... Hope you take solace in our company who are grateful to drink and feast on your poetry and thoughtful comments, Ms Kathy. :)
ReplyDeleteThat deserves a big thank you, Colin. I enjoy uour poetry as well.:-)
DeleteLast two lines most especially poignant. I am reminded of aging and all the questions that come to mind as we grow into "elders" or "seniors"....like the drying flowers...seeking visitors and company.....facing the quiet and oneness of solitary meals when one's loved ones have passed before us or are busy with their own lives away from us. My aunt used to say "Growing old isn't for sissies." and my mother used to say, "Life isn't fair." Maybe they knew the answers.
ReplyDeleteCertainly they think along the same vein..thank you, Lillian.
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