A place to gather words before they get lost.
We arrive in your city unannounced, as gift, of course,
hidden inside the dark cavern of the wooden horse
We're quiet, as night, and then as bright as stars, we fall -
boots on the ground, then guards, rope-bound, we call
to our ships on the sea: return to the land, to fight
and recover our queen, in a wartime victory; by night
we're off, and the horse, stands alone, among rubble and ruin
a wooden reminder, as the ocean winds sing one last tune
Springtime, wrapped in ice; inside Liminal Spaces - neither here nor there
for Algot
Little things I’ll give to you —
from Little Things by Marion Strobel https://poets.org/poem/little-things?mc_cid=ebd44c7f57&mc_eid=ed9c8bae96
Petals, pressed gently inside the pages of a paper book
a timestamp, so I might always remember the look
you gave me; no one else felt it, the way the Earth, shook
Love arcs the Spring sky - a burst of warmth, and then she unfolds, a flower
Sleet on glass in discordant time, a rhythm of falling
Trees rustling in whispering rhyme, a winter's calling
Spring, sprouts anew, a song singing of sunshine, in the morning dew
A yearning inside the night for something lost
A two a.m. calling; you're falling again out of deep sleep,
waking to a moment - dancing on the line of time between
what is and what was and what will never be, ever again
Found poem from within text of an introduction by editor of collection: Poems from the Edge of Extinction: An Anthology of Poetry in Endangered Languages
A simple idea: collect poems in endangered languages
Help document how poetry exists
The conversations and encounters with poets from all over the world
showcase the edge of extinction
The urgency invention and sheer range of poetry on every continent
for World Poetry Day
Green, among white snow, like ink drops on a canvas; new buds' arrival
Conserve energy - a flock flies in formation; each goose shouts: I'm here