Poem

Wildred

Nancy's Notes 🖊️🎶

Written for W3 Prompt #172: Wea’ve Written
Weekly where we’re asked to choose a word
 from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and
make this word the title of our poem. My word
is ‘wildred’ and here’s where it took me.

The Prompt: We are to choose a word from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows and make it the title of our poem. We should either use the word directly or capture the essence of its meaning. Include a direct link to the word’s page so readers can explore its definition and origin. Write in any poetic form we wish.

© Imtiaz Hussain Photography

The land stretches out,
endless,
under a sky so vast.
No other sound
but the wind’s low sigh.

It carries no voices,
only dust
from time’s old bones.
My own breath
a loud thing
in this great quiet.

The mountains stand,
silent watchers,
for thousands of years.
No human step
has marked this ground,
or so it feels.

A huge emptiness
fills the air,
and then my chest.
A haunting,
a sadness,
a deep, slow chill.

Like echoes
of what was never here.
A wistful hush.
I am just a speck
in this massive, empty world.
And the quiet
wraps around me,
a part of me now.

NAR©2025

The word I chose was Wildred; adj. – feeling the haunting solitude of extremely remote places … a clearing in the forest, a windswept field of snow, a rest area in the middle of nowhere … which makes you feel like you’ve just intruded on a conversation that had nothing to do with you, where even the gravel beneath your feet and the trees overhead are holding themselves back to a pointed, inhospitable silence.

This is “Cold Desert” by Kings of Leon

W3 Prompt #172: Wea’ve Written Weekly

All text and graphics are copyright for Nancy Richy and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

38 thoughts on “Wildred”

  10. You paint a vivid picture with your words, Nancy. 💫 Love this, especially:

    It carries no voices,
    only dust
    from time’s old bones.

    And thanks for the vocabulary lesson! “Wildred” was a new word for me.

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  15. Wildred is a very appropriate title for your wondrous poem … your words could be that of a weathered old wizard, softly whispering in a wistful and worrisome tone, after wandering in an unknown world … Arh this Uriah Heep song springs to mind …

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      1. I’m awake! I’m up and down like a watering can … I’m drinking enough water to refloat the Ark … yes, not one of Heeps well known songs but I always liked the lyrics, Nancy 🎶😊😍🌏

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  16. Nancy, this one feels vast and haunting in the best way.

    Your lines “Like echoes / of what was never here. / A wistful hush.” especially capture that sense of emptiness turning into presence—I felt pulled right into it.

    ~David

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