it was a ruptured gaze-
interrupted by still white
low plains.
my hopes lived to see their
greatness blunder.
I watched fierce slits open to
flashing jarring forests
shifting slowly,
ever so gracefully
reducing me to fragments.

– Sheila Sea

13 thoughts on “jarring

  1. Just EXQUISITE, Sheila! I admit that poetic interpretation isn’t my forte, but this poem makes me FEEL, and that’s enough for me. What I feel is the raw majesty of a wild animal (Wolf?) and one who is about to die in its primitive power. This one I’ll need to read several times!


    Liked by 1 person

    1. I don’t think there’s anything greater than hearing that your writing has moved someone. So, thank you for that gracious compliment. Also, I really enjoy your interpretation. ^_^


  2. So help me out here. I’m at a loss. Like an instant interruption — some cataclysmic event. Only the title steers me towards this thought. Flash and slow motion. I think of times I’ve been in accidents, where the initial impact is sudden and out of the blue. Then the residue of the event slows to almost a frame-by-frame event. Could be that. Though, on another level, could be relational — like the impact of the death of a relationship. First shock, then anger, then the debris of what is left — the scattered fragments.

    I can relate on either level.

    Not a simple poet, are you?

    Liked by 1 person

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