Sepia

bydemure101©

Occasionally the mist lifts
from the middle past and we can see
severe gray ships come slowly drifting

past the shallows, slower past the jetty -
the reef far back to sea a stroke, off-white -
and on to meet the ghostly group

of waiting people, sporting spats, umbrellas,
and wearing topees and moustaches, twirling canes.
Then there’s the trees behind a sheet of rain,

stately, tall; a native couple
stands back behind the cold grey eyes
of white authority, a fleeting smile

to light their faces till again the mist
blots it all out: just trees and natives stay
there to endure while strangers fade away.

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bydemure101© 12 comments/ 1866 views/ 2 favorites

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by Anonymous

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by ishtat11/03/12

Excellent 5+

This is the best poem of yours that I have read. Nothing to add to comments already expressed particularly by the mountaineer.
But I didn't see this as a particular photograph as some did, more a waymore...

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by theognis10/24/12

*****

Five.

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by butters09/30/12

this works so well as a spoken piece. though the title suggests photograph, the words you've used, textured, layering, suggestion of movement, feels more the description of a painting as has already beenmore...

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by Angeline09/29/12

Really beautiful

You've captured another time and presented it in ghostly wisps. Love how it fades in and out. Very haunting and just slightly spooky.

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by DawnJ09/29/12

"A Stroke, Off-White"...

This is very much a painted image, isn't it, Demure? The "mists of time" have white-washed reality, or else it's an old painting, aged by time, and thereby softened. Even with the deliberate word choicesmore...

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