...About the humid weather
and the foggy mountain.
How the worn out sky
is eager to rain, to roar for relief.
Tonight I write about all,
about nothing and everything,
winter's stinging gust,
summer's shimmering sun
fall and its orange glow
how its colors evolve in spring.
The tiny grass roots below trees
that survive, but are pointless.
About stolons that grow at the surface
for a purpose.
Or, about me,
how my heart ebbs and flows
along the edge of the sea,
but never makes it beyond the shore.
I shall write about nothing
but not about you,
not about you.
Was it intentional to have this poem start off with 'about the humid weather', it feels like it was written mid sentence (not that it's a bad thing), but if that's the case, maybe use an ellipsis in the beginning to indicate that to the reader a bit more clearly.
I love how neruda-esque this feels! It made me think of 'tonight, i can write the saddest lines' poem by him. The heartbreak in this poem is clear, with how the poet wills herself to write of everything but them; about the weather, sea, winter, summer.
Something interesting that stood out to me was:
'About stolons that grow at the surface
for a purpose.'
I was familiar with the concept but not the terminology of stolons; it's interesting, since they're above ground the connection can be easily severed/trampled over intentionally or accidentally. I think that fact in itself makes this poem uniquely sad.
Repeating 'not about you' for the ending is powerful. This is beautiful, I'm sorry it roots from heartbreak though.