Where Is the Poem in This Slate Gray Day?
It simmers
smoky
in the woodfire
that thaws
an April freeze
And it sings
fearless
with the phoebe
bobbing on her wire
trapeze
It shimmers
in the sequins
sprinkled
atop the cat’s
onyx vest
And it flies
bold
as the goldfinch
that scissors
the sun-starved mist
It rhymes
with the fledgling
whose wings beat
from nest edge
to beam
And then it sighs
as the green pleads
release
from earth’s
pulsing pungent seam
6 thoughts on "Where Is the Poem in This Slate Gray Day?"
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I love so much how the small stanzas make me feel like a colorful bird, or many birds, hopping from branch to branch. Your poem makes the slate gray day sparkle!
Thanks, Gaby! I struggled with the line breaks on this one to keep it from being too sing-songy. Cheers!
Nancy, what glorious images, and sweet rhythms you set up with your repeated sounds.
Great poem, Nancy! I especially love “earth’s / pulsing pungent seam.”
‘scissors the sun starved– love this, it is too copyable and I mustn’t let it linger.
Beautiful sounds–“simmers/smoky,” “scissors/the sun-starved mist,”beat” and “beam,” “green pleads/release.” Lovely!