i see you if only they could see you were much more but they just saw a tree not your vibrant, dynamic core your roots winding deep beneath the earth’s floor branches that stretched to the clouds, wild bursting bud tips how you dance with the wind when tempests roar shelter, haven, legend of yore chopped down so callously to build a door but I see you ev’ry bit ~kat For Tanka Tuesday’s Ekphrastic Prompt Challenge - The Diatelle - PHEW! Took me a bit of time to make it work. Fantastic form!!! The Diatelle is a fun, syllable counting form like the etheree with a twist. The syllable structure of the diatelle is as follows: 1/2/3/4/6/8/10/12/10/8/6/4/3/2/1, but unlike an etheree, has a set rhyme pattern of abbcbccaccbcbba.
Tag Archives: Trees
dead of winter
the trees have been silent lately but
for the occasional moan, pressed
to breaking by the wind; the sun,
choked by damp drear hasn’t shown
his face for weeks; all is gray but,
who am i to curse the day, to
loathe the rain that swells the creeks
and soaks the earth, kissing the
roots, the dormant seedling shoots
messy, messy life, muddy, red clay
paw prints on just mopped floors, no
matter, there are cool wet noses to
kiss and velvet ears to scratch, and a
book collecting dust on my nightstand,
it’s crisp pages longing to be caressed,
words upon beautiful words whispering,
the irony...giving voice to muted trees
the edge of darkness
there’s a place
where the old,
at the edge of
tell you where
the dark meets
the light, and
I won’t tell you why
I listen, in times
like these, to trees
A Blackout Poem based on today’s Poem of the Day at Poetry Foundation, “What Kind of Times Are These” by Adrienne Rich. The theme on the Muse’s mind, it would seem is all about trees today…and the current state of things. it is so interesting how that happens. I hadn’t looked up the poem of the day until after I had spent time with today’s tetractys and the sapling growing in a bucket in my back yard. Strange indeed.
What Kind of Times Are These
by Adrienne Rich
There’s a place between two stands of trees where the grass grows uphill
and the old revolutionary road breaks off into shadows
near a meeting-house abandoned by the persecuted
who disappeared into those shadows.
I’ve walked there picking mushrooms at the edge of dread, but don’t be fooled
this isn’t a Russian poem, this is not somewhere else but here,
our country moving closer to its own truth and dread,
its own ways of making people disappear.
I won’t tell you where the place is, the dark mesh of the woods
Meeting(s) the unmarked strip of light—
ghost-ridden crossroads, leafmold paradise:
I know already who wants to buy it, sell it, make it disappear.
And I won’t tell you where it is, so why do I tell you
anything? Because you still listen, because in times like these
to have you listen at all, it’s necessary
to talk about trees.
dogwood trees are in bloom
petals, bright, chase the gloom
though stormy clouds may loom, life is good
Florescence Day 20 for Jane Dougherty’s Daily Poetry Challenge. Today a look up the street of my neighborhood…at the dogwood blooming. My favorite tree along with the Magnolia. Have a happy Friday everyone!
battered, billowing trees
bent from a blust’ry breeze
their dappled crowns like seas, leaf scattered
Playing along with Jane Dougherty’s Daily Florescence Poem Challenge. Today Jane combined her florescense with a 5-word prompt from Secret Keeper. After laboring on and off for hours over the 5 words and their synonyms, my head started to hurt. So I glanced out the window and watched the wind-tossed trees. Mercifully the universe gave me a substitute topic for today’s daily poem. Coffee break over…back to spreadsheets and memos. 🙂