days end

days end s

tree branches
brush the sky–brooms of
green and gold
sweeping the
cloud dust out of reach—billows
following the wind

 in westward
waves that transcribe the
ruddy hues
left behind
by the last traces of sun–
the shadows deepen

 into shapes
that mingle, become
lost in each
other—the
remnants of the day yielding
to sudden darkness

days end close up s

Frank at dVerse asked us to write poems with descriptive detail, that “motivates the reader to remember the poem and read it again.”  This made me realize how little I use descriptive detail as a poetic device.

days end landscape s

I’m not even sure what I wrote really qualifies, but it’s closer than most of my work.  And I also realized this kind of poetry is very hard to illustrate, at least the way I illustrate my poems.  I dug into my archives and combined a watercolor and some monoprints I did a few years ago to try to get the same feeling.  You can see the components above and below.

days end mandala s

days end rice paper s

 

Journey

journey s

Imagine a world spinning green–
imagine standing under a tree,
beginning a journey
filled with the sky, an endless
searching of the horizon
for a way out of sorrow,

a constant companion–sorrow,
too, follows this path, like the green
stretching to the horizon–
but grief can rest in the shade of a tree,
above roots that touch endless
other wayfarers, merging together each journey–

thoughts turn into themselves, and the journey
becomes slippery with a sorrow
that slithers from an endless
dark place—hidden from the green,
waiting in corridors, like a tree
searching for the sun on the horizon–

wayfarer s

and yet each morning the horizon
opens again with light, and the journey
awakens and takes flight with the birds in the tree–
to come out from behind the sorrow,
to see instead the green
against the blue sky that holds the promise, endless

transformation , endless
colors that sparkle the horizon,
that follow the patterns of green,
that follow the journey
of what began in sorrow
into the enfolding branches of a tree–

a tree that shelters, a tree
that becomes a refuge to endless
migrations of grief, loss, sorrow–
steps taken from horizon to horizon,
into the unknown terrain of every journey–
out of the shadows into a land of green–

Imagine a tree on the horizon–
imagine an endless dream, a mapless journey—
all the secret songs of sorrow turning into fertile fields of green

A sestina for Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  Sestina is the current featured poetic form at dVerse, introduced by Victoria.

green s2

Looking into my past archives, I only found one previous sestina, which also has a hue of sadness, but in red.  Green is much more hopeful.

And I’ve been dreaming of trees.

 

Arrayed

arrayed s

Waves surround being–
always changing
both mover and moved.

The hand opens,
permeable,
to let light pass
through.

Birds squabble–
brown, ordinary,
almost invisible
in the freckled light.

And a heart
takes something—
call it hope, perhaps–
and dances a little
in the dark

A quadrille for dVerse, also inspired by a prompt from Miz Quickly, above.  I am always intrigued by her prompts, even if I don’t often have time to do them.  In this case it fit in well with my thoughts about Mish’s word, “freckle”.

 

In(ter)dependence Day

interdependence day s

one and then
two, attracting, bound
together–
more, not less–
each recombined to make life
new—what it was not

I saw something online this morning–“Happy Interdependence Day” it said.  And I said:  Yes, Yes Yes.

 

 

interdependence day close up s

Happy 4th!