The Shape That Sounds Make, Matters
Worms and roots rustle
grains of soil.
Pea plants pirouette
to flowing water.
Shelf-fungi drip
guttation.
Shakuhachi catches
wind whispers.
Mourning dove wings
whistle warning.
Woman breathes
in the wrong space.
Trouble not buried in earth
shuttles upward.
Little dog barks.
The title of this poem is a line from Medbh McGuckian’s poem “Death of a Ceiling.”
11 thoughts on "The Shape That Sounds Make, Matters"
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Pam, I love what you have done here. The title is fantastic. The subtle connections and the cause/effect of all that’s going on. Wow!
Thanks, Linda! McCuckian’s line pulled me to good depths.
You have done wonders with sound and movement throughout the poem. Nice read!
Thanks! Mcuckian’s line took my breath and plunged me deep.
I love this, and was surprised by the ending, which made it all the more powerful.
Thanks, Nancy! Mourning dove took me there,
To read this poem I must engage my senses, slow down a little–play out the sounds on the stage you make–
and then–there is an acknowledging nod in response….to a very diverse set of feelings with this poem–Thank you!
I love this one…
“Mourning dove wings
whistle warning.”
Thank you, Ann! Glad you savored it.
Wonderful reversal of “the usual” way of thinking. I especially like, “Trouble not buried in earth/shuttles upward. “
Thanks, Greg! McCuckian’s line really caught my heart.
All of the sounds to me are short punctuations. Eight lines of very small words that sort of whistle like the dove’s wings, I picture tossing little pebbles into water and watching the ripples spread. I really enjoyed:
“Shelf-fungi drip
guttation.”
“Shakuhachi catches
wind whispers.”