The deep has always loved me

deep woods

~

The red tailed hawk still perfect but road killed the colors of fall

The drifting snow burying the uphill windows to lit transoms

The absolute quiet of white

 The starving deer the dogs ran down in that hardest of winters

The deer’s bones in the morgue of the freezer until I would bury the bones in Spring

The brush fires I tended that burned hot or low for days under late snow or Spring rain

The old ghost tricking me in dreams to remember our children born of plunder and rape

The gourds that looked like the swollen bellies of whales

The purge of the creek in spring run off stripping bark clean from tumbling dead trees

The surprise of the rising waters climbing my calves the ground saturated to jelly

The path we called Cat Butt turned into a river the sound wild and competing with returning brown geese

A lightening flash snaking the grounding wire silencing the music playing inside with a preacher’s thunder

The swath cut through the static of long berry brambles catching hold and refusing to let go

The oldest grapevine living with the elder pine protecting each other with their roots suckling water from the bog

The young maples I sang with as I learned their grove’s language

The low valley road no one wanted to travel that opened my throat to the sound of a vowel’s reaching

The last call and thumping cry shock wave of each tree falling as loggers clear cut nearby

The hummingbird sitting in stillness on the tip of the branchless dead tree each summer’s day at four

The oceans of colored mushrooms swelling the deep woods just that one wet season

The bed of lace and leaves tatted by oak’s tannin where I lay in surrender to soft rain

 The purple woman’s hands of black cohosh rising from wet soil dressed in the mysteries of Spring

                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Photo: Deep Woods by Nicholas_T  ( https://c2.staticflickr.com/8/7296/8847022426_1d8de04c8c_b.jpg )

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21 responses

    • These are special memories. I never thought I’d leave that land. I’m sure a large piece of me is still there… It still informs me every day just like any intimate relationship. Thanks Geo Sans :~)

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  1. Reblogged this on The Sand County and commented:
    This is superb. Everything about this poem is alive -I feel like the poem because the forest and everything that was alive in it. Poem-forest, they are one here.

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  2. This is probably my favourite verse (I say “probably” because I think this poem is simply magnificent and it is hard to choose):

    “the low valley road no one wanted to travel that opened my throat to the sound of a vowel’s reaching”

    As the reader I could feel this happening while I read it and it gave the place an added texture that really takes the “out there” and brings it “in here” and then sends it back out again. Wow. What a terrific poem!

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  3. I stumbled on your poem via The Sand County and I’m so glad I did. I love this, the sensuousness and the gentle care you took to describe each experience! I,m going to look around some more!

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  4. Pingback: The Poetics of Light #3 « Poetry of Light

  5. I believe we all have suffer
    A tragedy some worst than others
    But we all have suffer
    It takes a person who is committed to life
    To find a new path in which to walk
    To seek life
    And not it’s roads end
    But a beginning
    Where the air is clean
    So you can breathe again
    I will keep listening
    For your words speak to me
    As always Sheldon

    Liked by 1 person

    • You have such a clear voice Sheldon. I agree…we have all seen and experienced too much. And you’re so right in saying there is more than the obvious path to follow. We just need to put our head lamps on! Thanks for reading this one Sheldon. My total heart’s in here….

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    • I can hardly express the intense joy I experience sharing this part of my life, Chris. Each moment I felt full of meaning. movement. the contrast is what informs me now. green to ink. ink to green? what to do? what to do? keep moving through the solitary rubble of words? life can be an ever solving puzzle. I am grateful, dear friend, to be reminded of the lightness of being.

      Liked by 1 person

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