The Meadow Holds Her Breath This Morning

 

The meadow holds her breath this morning–

Exhaling nothing.

Even the grass frozen

As she lies mute and bound

The rounded hills of her chest tight with life restrained

With cries she dares not sound.

 

A captive, petrified in the steely chains of Winter,

Waiting for the summer sun or even its paler solstice twin

To heat her bonds and melt her free.

Every tree and every bush and every blade of grass strains upwards to attention–

The eager antennae of her body alert, alive within their icy sheaths.

Silent. Still. Straining every sense to hear–

All of her frozen

Immobilized with fear–

Dreading the return of Winter’s cruel grasp.

 

Only the rush of rivulets swollen from recent rains

Run like blood thrumming through her veins

Each one racing to the sea,

Carrying particulates of self and soil

A trail of vital fluid to lead the lost steelhead home.

 

As if in answer to her heart’s blood’s call

A blanket of silver fog rolls upwards

Shielding her shoulders

Exhaling warmth from her wandering lover, the sea.

Muffling even the pulsing of the stream.

 

In the cottoned silence,

My black dog throws up a drum roll of black birds

From amongst the stiff, unmoving grass.

And the sound shatters silence

Like a rock shatters glass.

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21 Comments
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Tj and Mark
Guest
13 years ago

We love this poem. It is very evocative. Impressive.

Tj and Mark
Guest
13 years ago

We love this poem. It is very evocative. Impressive.

Staff
Member
13 years ago

Thanks. This morning was so beautiful with fog and frost battling over the hillside.

mark
Guest
mark
13 years ago

Yes it was. Yet I doubt that everyone was fully aware. Thank you for noticing and reminding us. …And, please, consider swapping chrystalline for unmoving in the last stanza. 🙂 mark

Staff
Member
13 years ago
Reply to  mark

How about Crystal? I didn’t like the 3 syllables of unmoving but was running out of time to write and so surrendered to less than perfect in several spots.

mark
Guest
mark
13 years ago

Yes it was. Yet I doubt that everyone was fully aware. Thank you for noticing and reminding us. …And, please, consider swapping chrystalline for unmoving in the last stanza. 🙂 mark

Staff
Member
13 years ago
Reply to  mark

How about Crystal? I didn’t like the 3 syllables of unmoving but was running out of time to write and so surrendered to less than perfect in several spots.

t
Guest
t
13 years ago

pure excellence!

t
Guest
t
13 years ago

pure excellence!

Kyle
Guest
Kyle
13 years ago

Kym,

That was beautiful! Thank you for sharing with all of us– Kyle

Kyle
Guest
Kyle
13 years ago

Kym,

That was beautiful! Thank you for sharing with all of us– Kyle

Staff
Member
13 years ago

Thanks everyone.

Staff
Member
13 years ago

Thanks everyone.

olmanriver
Guest
olmanriver
13 years ago

Lovely! And to think some locals would rather be in a warm tropical place and miss these winter scenes.

Staff
Member
13 years ago
Reply to  olmanriver

If I were going to take a months vacation, I’d go in August–my least favorite month.

olmanriver
Guest
olmanriver
13 years ago

Lovely! And to think some locals would rather be in a warm tropical place and miss these winter scenes.

Staff
Member
13 years ago
Reply to  olmanriver

If I were going to take a months vacation, I’d go in August–my least favorite month.

jendocino
Guest
13 years ago

You’ve done a couple of poems lately, Kym, and I really like them. Your lines are a lovely compliment to your images. This one is just stunning. Thank you so much for sharing! And keep the poems coming!

jendocino
Guest
13 years ago

You’ve done a couple of poems lately, Kym, and I really like them. Your lines are a lovely compliment to your images. This one is just stunning. Thank you so much for sharing! And keep the poems coming!

Staff
Member
13 years ago

Thanks Jen. I love poetry but sometimes I feel it and it comes. And, sometimes it doesn’t. And what I have time for is what comes in a rush but not for editing so sadly you all get some rough stuff.

Staff
Member
13 years ago

Thanks Jen. I love poetry but sometimes I feel it and it comes. And, sometimes it doesn’t. And what I have time for is what comes in a rush but not for editing so sadly you all get some rough stuff.