Today's blog poem, A.E. Stringer's "Sunday Morning, Cumberland Gap" conjures up both movement (through space and through time) and stillness/quiet at the same time.
I have driven the Cumberland Gap many times, in all kinds of weather, and when things were silent (late on a week night) to very noisy (traffic on a summer Saturday stopped for road work). I have traveled over it before there was a nice road with a viewpoint/rest area--I like driving over it much more now!
Even though the poem does not take place in autumn, it is a Sunday morning poem AND it is that time of year when things are suddenly quiet, isn't it? Fans and air conditioners are off, kids are in school, the weather has people inside rather than gathering outside, and the noise from the holidays--from Trick or Treat to Happy New Year!--hasn't yet started. Every autumn I am surprised by how silent it is outside, how different from just a few weeks ago.
This week's prompt asks that you consider movement and silence together. Is it possible to have total quiet when there is movement? Does an inanimate object aging make a noise? What feeling do you get when you drive through a place and there is no sound or movement?
These questions do not need to be in your piece--they are just brainstorming ideas.