Posts tagged ‘nature’
Here is the rabbit
in the burrow
while the coyote
and the buzzard
light a fire by the door,
waving smoke and sweet talking.
“Little Rabbit, I will be kind,”
“I only want your skin, I swear.
If you give it to me now
I will go away
for the season
and come drive you out in the winter.
I hear death to cold is easy, small friend,
a simple nap to the other side.”
“I am kinder,”
“I will wait until you’re dead to eat you.
But I’ll be honest, if you come out now,
you’ll make us happy
and when you are gone
we will sing for you
songs of thanksgiving…
isn’t it tempting?”
Rabbit sighs, and lights tobacco, and sage.
“Wait, wait, brethren, until I am old and slow.
Then when I come out I won’t even run.
Until then seek some other burrow
that may find your voices pleasing.
I have enough roots to sustain me til spring.
By then you’ll be frostbitten
and your navels meeting your backbones.
So off you go, and thanks for the fire,
it keeps the wolves and foxes back,
and they tend to dig at the door.
Next time bring some sweetgrass,
maybe some cabbage, or beer.
You really need to work on your approach
when there are so many predators
competing with you.”
(c) RCGA 2016
The humidity is high
a damp grey curtain
made of wool
that clings and weighs me down
each time I venture out
Yet the birds sing
repetitive echoes in the trees
a dog barks once
punctuation to the cicadas
and small frogs calling
for rain to come
(c) RCGA 2016
I hear your buzzing, and it drives me mad,
that soft, incessant humming that you do;
though you are not my enemy (I’m glad),
I’m still tempted to hit you with my shoe.
But I’m resolved to let your buzzing be
(Ha, did you catch that… bee? You are not one)
live and let live as long as there’s no stings.
You really push my human frailty
droning against my window in the sun
fabric chuffing on your beating wings.
I opened up the window for you twice
and shooed you towards it; but you clung there, staid
red body pushed against the glass, a vice
too stubborn to escape when you were bade.
What festers in that tiny brain of yours
that keeps you in, but beats against the wall,
unable to take freedom freely shown,
yet constantly seeks to be out of doors?
Wee russet warrior, you are very small
yet fierce determined, tap, and chuff, and drone.
I could just capture you and set you free
against your will into the sultry air;
but it’s become a test twixt you and me,
and giving in just doesn’t seem quite fair.
So I will sit, and listen to your hum
two feet away from a wide open door,
and contemplate the qualities of glass
and wonder what’s made my ambitions numb,
that I do not push boundaries like before,
but seek the least resistant route bypass.
(c) RCGA 2016
Green apple slices
pale and tart
seem to brace
at the sinking of teeth
grassy and feminine
one by one
we eat them and laugh
some element of spring
bathing and loosening
a fresh reality
like the sun
from behind a long standing cloud
we knew it was there
but until we tasted it
we couldn’t be sure
it would return
3-19-16 (c) RCGA
Down the slope of your shoulder
is a constellation of freckles
that decorates your skin
a negative image
of a clear night sky
and translucent pallor
I want to travel there
I want to take a journey
with my lips and hands
follow the stardust
wherever it goes
inhale the air that isn’t there
because you take it away
too vast to contain
I will trace my itinerary
with the tip of my tongue
from one dark star
I will venture
to explore you
and fill the void
with the unswallowed sounds
you will offer
music of the spheres
(c) RCGA 2015
the model is poised
on the platform
from her shoulder
her mind is distant
from the eyes
translating her outlines
into paint and clay
her skin glows dimly
in a shaft of light
as her drape slithers down
a pool of fabric
caressing her ankles
she is elemental
planetary globes and
the long limbs of trees
and backs of cetaceans
the curve of a falling star
she moves the muses
agitating all the minds
that guide the hands
within their creations
for just a moment
before she steps down
she walks away
(c) RCGA 2015