Tuesday, February 8, 2011

"La Fuite de la Lune"

La Fuite de la Lune
by: Oscar Wilde
To outer senses there is peace,
A dreamy peace on either hand,
Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.
Save for a cry that echoes shrill
From some lone bird disconsolate;
A corncrake calling to its mate;
The answer from the misty hill.
And suddenly the moon withdraws
Her sickle from the lightening skies,
And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.
This week's Slice of Life encourages us to choose a poem that speaks to us, and a photo that goes with it. I took this photo today of a giant dried flower on one of the hills I walk. There were a few large stands of these, amid the burgeoning green of spring. I also recently listened to a podcast about Oscar Wilde and would like to familiarize myself more with his work. I see a parallel in the flight of the moon and the starkness of this flower.

See previous Slices of Life here.

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