for all you know that could be me
deep-rustling in the hedge
i weave a secret, tangled nest
to harbor all our warmth
fleeing from the hornet swarm
where old stings always burn
i track your footsteps in the dirt
tucked safely at your side
i am just a quiet ghost
lost among the leaves
*96/100: For the next 100 days, I’ll be writing a poem a day. All photos are mine.
Lovely.
Thank you so much!
The photograph makes the poem feel wonderfully literal. The little figure half-hidden in the undergrowth really could be that “quiet ghost” keeping close while remaining unseen. The tenderness of “tucked safely at your side” softens the darker imagery of stings, fleeing and disappearance.
Thanks! I wrote the poem around the photo, which I don’t always do, but it’s what came up when I was thinking of hiding. Hope it worked for you, as I wasn’t too sure if it read as just literal and not much else.
Yeah, seems mostly literal to me too. But what I like is …mostly. I’m left not really sure, especially with the line about hornet stings. Best kind of ambiguity.
Yeah, it does feel a bit on the nose…and this one gave me lots of trouble. I had an idea, but it just wouldn’t cooperate. This was after struggling a bit and finally just letting it be. Not my favorite.