Upon a mat of pine
there was breath
and birds
and sighing whispers
The sky fading blue
and black
through gates
of fluttering lashes
As gravity brought
supple flesh
to rest
and rise
To the perch of lip
and settled hip
of arms rooted
below shoulders booted
6 comments:
I think Trev is having a little too much fun. I'm starting to get jealous. :-D
Gates of fluttering lashes is a glorious image, Tree.
Maybe it's Trev's turn now, but the beautiful thing is this: we can all find that kind of fun. When we are open to other people, we find those we will connect with. Everyone has a portion of fun available. We just have to go get it.
Oh my I do love your attitude. Almost enough to want to camp in the desert; or spend a lot of time in the tent. :-D
Yes, well, much time is spent in the tent. Or anywhere . . never mind.
Images aside, not an easy thing to do, this was an absolute delight to read aloud, sensuous, lush word combinations, the way in which the rhymes dance back and forth, almost as though the lines are folding in upon themselves, layering so delicately, the written equivalent of a trifle. I would love to hear you read this. Love to hear you whisper it, keeping my eyes closed, the softness of voice, all senses concentrating on the nuances of each word, the vibrations of sound particularly the bounces between the vowels within the verses, and the way in which the preceeding seems to catch the breath, so to speak, and breathe it into the following to make it a single, extraordinary beautiful melody. Beautiful of sound, of image, this poem is everything a poem can be, the best of them. Loved it.
i love this! especially the first two stanzas, such a great beginning:
"upon a mat of pine..."
i can sense the fragrance and then dive into her flattering lashes, fadin away...
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