They cemented the hill
That’s what you do
When the road runs out
We walk to the top
We like it here
It is removed
Like mud in our ears
The tree stump was a tight circle
When we first came back
From that place
You know
Now it is splitting
Disconnecting
Like skin
Like us
We put mud in our ears
We do not like it here
The clock with no hands turns
We go to the red door
It has a black carving
A woman’s head
We want to touch her
But we keep walking
Such beautiful doors are not meant for us
We go to one building
Then another
We are not sure if it is the right place
The place we should be
It doesn't really matter any more
We take a seat
Our voice fills the room
Removed
Like mud
We wonder if it is really us
We wonder
And then we leave
We are running out of road I whisper
I won’t say her name
You know who it is
I have to keep her safe
That is why
That is why
We walk fast
The brown boots
Splitting
Like skin
Like us
I Repair the breaks
Like mud on our skin
We are cold and tired
But we must keep walking
Even when the road ends
We must.
Determination. It is so evident in this piece. It does matter. The two will keep going, and then learn that the beautiful is, indeed, for them.
ReplyDeleteThe loneliness of this piece is invasive and compelling. The dead end in the road is a set back but it is not the end, just time to make a detour off the road for a change. Remember if if you have climbed up to the top it is easier on the way down, walk on the grass, pick the flowers and keep hold of her hand; but make sure you get some new boots!
ReplyDeleteThank you Kim..grit and toil..but we will keep our blue dress clean and ready for better things..
ReplyDeleteThank you OldEgg..do you know I prefer going up hill (but I am bananas) down hill always feels like sprained ankle bingo..old bones and all ;) we always look at the leaves and trees..some leaves are just so perfect..like boots at the right stage of wear and tear..
This is a story of true determination. Yes, we must keep walking. You are a real inspiration Jae :-)
ReplyDeleteI do think there will be a way, Jae. You will find a new road, the right door. I do prefer to go uphill too...often an easier walk than the walk down.
ReplyDeleteLove it.. Just because a road ends doesn't mean you have to stop.
ReplyDeleteThank you very much Green Speck..
ReplyDeleteThank you Mary..great minds.. x
Thanks Janie..good to see you back..
I don't like dead ends. You are right - one must keep on walking. Perhaps, if Van Gogh had not painted the dead end path into the cornfield, but walked forward to find an alternative view to paint, things would have worked out differently for him. Keep Alice by you at all times.
ReplyDeleteThank you Altonian..we never stray into cornfields..never good to be on a path that is taller than you..
ReplyDeleteSuch hope here! Glad to read you are not giving up. Great images, as always!
ReplyDeleteWhere the road ends you must make your own path. Sometimes that's the best way to start in the first place.
ReplyDeleteThanks very much Linda..
ReplyDeleteI think so..thank you Ann..
Enigmatic. Yes! The way to go for this week's prompt.
ReplyDeleteThanks very much Berowne..
ReplyDeleteJae, I love the feel of perseverance in this piece. The blacks and browns have taken hold, just as autumn sucks the earth dry of color.
ReplyDelete"But we must keep on walking, even when the road ends. We must" Stellar ending. Love, Amy
http://sharplittlepencil.com/2012/11/11/wisconsin-mud/
Thank you Amy..hadn't thought of the colour changes..they must be tricksters too..thank you..
ReplyDeleteThis piece has the quality of a dream, perhaps it is wonderland? I had a mud bath once, it was very nice. My friend said she broke out in a rash, but that didn't happen to me?
ReplyDeleteIt's never quite real..j world..thank you Annell..maybe you enjoyed playing in the mud..like paint..so it suited you better? Like an artists tool..
ReplyDeleteThere seems to be a tiredness and desolation to this one. Maybe it is just me. I do not like hills period these days unless they are a hill of pillow I can prop my leg on! I hope you find warmth and sun over the rise.
ReplyDeletePillow hills sound like the best kind of hills..thank you Dee..
ReplyDeleteI love the line: Such beautiful doors are not meant for us. I find myself feeling that way often.
ReplyDeleteSounds a little too much like some of the hills in my neck of the woods.
ReplyDeleteMaybe if we see them they are meant for us (secretly) thank you Belva..
ReplyDeleteHills are tricky things..thanks Alice..