I could let you know
the sound my mountain makes
when winter calls the summer hawk
in red tail turning mindless talk,
weather,
changing limbs of word
through yellow destination,
swallowing time,
conceiving rhyme in earthbound hesitation,
as bird's orange chance to learn your name.
And should that feast of mountain trill
fill my hollow, aching ears
with wild reverberation,
its song will only serve to tell
that birds, as names,
leave and return on winds--
til season's thrill is fickle spent.
Oh, but seek my heart!
find its caverned treasure, ember glowing,
and bird might roost through winter's chill,
limbs will bloom
beneath frosted earth,
and chance
shall be left a thing
lost on tongues
of fools.
Amazing,
wind that curls in wing,
this seasoned separation of celestial flight
in nightly trust
to star's fresh dust,
thrusting line with effervescent imagination.
Stir our breath,
that less is more;
cultivate my primal chore
in forgotten footprint,
finding one last feather.
I will write in midlife thesis,
need to know,
waiting for your next edition,
an apprehensive palpitation
of heart that throbs
his last migration.
Author notes
A collaboration of Ten Thousand Cicadas and kaibab
In a list
A contest entry
- Power, Placement, Perspective (4) by JM Kenyon.
900 points, ended August 30, 2008, 6 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
What a beautiful song! So elegant and strong, very lovely. Congratulations on the trophy, both of you.
-
"Oh, but seek my heart!
find its caverned treasure, ember glowing"
I would have to say neither need be sought; their glow is obvious & apparent, even from here. Another lovely collaboration between two enormously~gifted writers. Good luck in the contest.
-
Another beautiful collab! Wow what a song this brings to the heart, my friends!
Sigh~
Lynda
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