Slice of Life Story- Raking Leaves, Rehearsing Words



This morning as I raked and removed another carpet of discarded leaves thrashed, bashed and scattered by last night’s torrent of rain, a poem began to form in my head. The writing mind seldom rests...


It further reminded me that so many of our writing ideas come calling when we are not actually engaged in writing.

So there I was raking and rehearsing...



Wintery Days

Shadows
And gathering clouds
Raindrop on footpaths
Spits and dollops
Splashing
Forming puddles and pools
A season of heavy coats
Scarves and gloves
Sheltering
Helter- Skeltering
Miserable breezes
Unforgiving winds
Sniffles and sneezes
Ah choo!

Alan j Wright



Comments

  1. Absolute truths: The writing mind never rests and "so many of our writing ideas come calling when we are not actually engaged in writing." They often come with activity and movement (I can think of many authors who were notorious walkers), or in the shower, under the movement of water. The repetitive, mundane action of raking is perfect for idea-stirring ... but then, so are your stunning surroundings. Breathtaking colors. Fascinating how the mind will use the proffered palette to paint its own season - winter reborn in June. Just beautiful.

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  2. Yes, our writing minds don’t rest. We are always on.

    Btw: As I’m sweating here in the USA, it is hard
    To imagine winter right now.

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  3. My best writing happens when cleaning or gardening - both times without a pen and paper around - and like you reciting it over again until I can reach my writing tools.
    It is 86 and humid here so I’m trying to feel the cold in your poem! I can imagine!

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