Once I was walking for a little hike in the countryside,
I came across that very little shoe.
Seemed "old".
Coming from the past.
Once I was walking for a little hike in the countryside,
I came across that very little shoe.
Seemed "old".
Coming from the past.
Judging by the sole, I would guess it to be rather new. However, being exposed to the elements does things to a shoe, or a person too.
Rain, sun, wind, it wears it down, especially when it is exposed to it from all sides, incl. the inside.
(another one looking at american series with investigators)
That's rather one probability, yes.
Poetry, where have you gone... :)
Hahaha! Poetry went analytical.
That's what happens (to me) as soon as something needs to be studied or analyzed. Poetry goes bye-bye, UNLESS.... I hear myself going too analytical or kind of snooty, in which case I will probably start making fun of myself, pulling my own words into absurdity, same as I would if someone else was being snooty.
It's a highly intricate balance game. :)
Perhaps poetry, in a way, serves, to reinvent the old, the existing, in a similar way as mythology does?
(I am doing it again, I know... I'll have a coffee. A poetic one. That will fix it.)
Go on a hiking, and you'll find (what is) poetry everywhere (without a-na-ly-zing-e-ve-ry-thing) (but you can bring coffee) (and your shoes) (try not to lose one, or...)
I've done it lots of times and yes, nature is poetry, in an effortless, natural way.