Rising on the Old Rope

The uncertainty of night
and random dreams pass,
the empty bucket of morning
echoing dully as it lifts
from the deeper darkness,
drawing up the cool draught
of what rises on the old rope
to the trembling light of day.




6 Responses to “Rising on the Old Rope”

  1. Rose says:

    Nice images, Don! Thank you.

  2. bill dare says:

    With you, Bro. Great depths of simile bringing muscle memories from childhood and refreshing water to my day. I am Grateful for your sharings.

  3. Athena Coleman says:

    Another gorgeous painting in the form of this poem. Thank you for sharing, Don.

  4. Paul Blythe says:

    Your words take me with you!
    Thanks, heaps, as we say down under, Paul

  5. david banner says:

    And what rises on that rope? May we remember that the past is just that….past. And may we be open to what might emerge of the new…..

  6. Jack says:

    Thanks Don…….I get a very ancient image here, of the life sustaining draughts that are brought up from my deep core, over generation after generation after generation of life producing ancestry…..

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