Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #36
http://sundayswhirligig.blogspot.com/
sunny, clumsy, wasp, molecules, whirl, begrudge,
spider, poppy, shouts, crow, alarm, pulling
Sunday Whirl: Wordle #228
https://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
unravel, terrain, speak, flight, beg, file,
current, exist, night, already, visible, fringe
Poets United: Poetry Pantry #281
http://poetryblogroll.blogspot.com/
That Moment
Alarm was raised by the crow and his raucous,
clumsy cawing. Nothing heard, nothing visible.
Perhaps no more than a wasp-like sting of awareness,
pulled from molecules of air on his current morning
flight over familiar terrain.
Spider didn’t end her methodical weaving, but whirled
even faster at its fringe, as if already begrudging sunlight
that might unravel her masterpiece worked through
long dark night. No one spoke, shouted, begged
for mercy, or filed a complaint. There was no time,
as a poppy-red haze covered the land, and in one
swift moment, all that had existed was gone.
Elizabeth Crawford 12/6/15
Soul's Music 
It certainly does feel that way. Sadly.
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a beautiful moment of brightness….
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Gosh….it does seem sometimes that the end is near.. Yet hope flourishes…breaking through the red haze. Nicely done.
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How fragile life is for some. Each creature does his round of homemaking, mating and harvesting knowing that it may start right over the next day,
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Odd how we never see the end coming – we’re always surprised that it happens to us.
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Thud…yes i could feel this one..and yet how beautifully you weave a tight web…no hyperbole…just loss..and loss..and spider trying..like she always knows
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I hesitated to click “like” because of the Armageddon nature of the poem, but I have to appreciate your skill as a poet.
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Maybe the end is close… Some days I feel the spider’s silk pulling… Maybe we are the spiders ourselves though.
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We do have very important choices to make and they are all decisive in their results.
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as a poppy-red haze covered the land, and in one
swift moment, all that had existed was gone.
Such a strong & powerful close to the poem.
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…so many things unfinished, when man chooses to burst red upon the world…
The words and image make such a statement…
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And probably that is just as it will happen. This moment seems on the horizon.
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Such sadness in this piece, Elizabeth. Sadness with beautiful imagery. Perhaps the world will be better off without us.
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A somber and very real feel now in this world….so many seem to be deaf to the alarms being sounded.
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I really felt that blast of flame. Powerful piece, my friend.
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This is a wonderful piece. I mainly really like how you structure your lines here – they flow so nicely together, and I love how they break. A poetic structure.
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Interesting images here. We all go about our tasks rarely looking up to see what is going on around us. And then…BAM….hate to say it but with how things are going, probably how it will end.
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If only we heed the alarms. Hope it doesn’t end that way.
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In the end that moment comes as a surprise, doesn’t it? We think we know when it ends, when really we have no idea. Thanks for the read!
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Beautifully built to that startling – though inevitable – conclusion.
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Fun, Elizabeth. But not for the creatures.
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An unraveled masterpiece would be something to complain about!
Clumsy Attempts
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We all live with that fear time is coming to an end, we tend to worry more on that than living life as if each day was our last. Knowing tomorrow may be the last then will we wake up and be real with ourselves maybe we need to take a lesson from nature possibly never knowing not worrying. Easier said than done, good write!
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nice story.
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WOW.
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always be hopeful for tomorrow, good luck.
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