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If life were a symphony,
Today would be an oboe –
Dark and windswept,
Hollow and deep,
Chill and alone.
In a field of birds
And baying hounds -
Today would moan,
Low and alone,
Playing its song
Of sorrow.
© by Randy Cadenhead.
Used with the author’s permission.
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Randy Cadenhead writes poetry in Decatur, Georgia. He is a student of creative nonfiction at Emory University and writes of his nature and its nurture on his life.
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wyantjl42:
Very moving mood piece.
Posted 03/02/2013 07:23 PM
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pwax:
Nicely musical!
Posted 02/23/2013 09:46 AM
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transitions:
I recognize those days, mostly winter, mostly "here"... Beautifully put; thanks. Judy
Posted 02/22/2013 05:07 PM
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lincolnhartford:
Yes you're right about the capacity of oboes to leave low moans over the countryside, but they can just as easily, play a joyful dance, leaving the dancer breathless with said joy.
Posted 02/22/2013 09:45 AM
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islandspirit:
Very evocative. Curious how other instruments would play their poem.
Posted 02/22/2013 08:05 AM
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John:
All those ooooboes sounds sounding in the poem, echoing the low wind over a darkened field.
Posted 02/22/2013 07:43 AM
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JC Walkup:
Hope
for poets
Gives
Life for
future
Letters. More of his work, please. JC Walkup
Posted 02/22/2013 07:35 AM
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JC Walkup:
Like a lot
More of his work, please.
JC Walkup, NC
Posted 02/22/2013 07:33 AM
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Dorcas:
Interesting. I am thinking of a humn iin which there is a line "play merry oboes."
Posted 02/22/2013 06:39 AM
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