Oh, Liz. I didn't get to see this one until now. "my windbreak against the possibility of lion eating lamb."
"The posts and beams of expectation turn in the mud, it’s nobody’s job, no dollars or cents change hands, just hammers and light, until we break for lunch,"
So many favorite parts here--those are just two I love. This made me feel strong and fragile and peaceful and angry, all within one poem. I am in awe of how visceral you can make any subject feel. Thank you for this!
And, yes, on the letting blood and gnashing of teeth:>)
I certainly have taken leave of my senses in this season of endless winter, but the hope of spring keeps me moving forward.
I love this part: I yield like a chained dog, like a lame horse, like the voice in me isn’t mine to raise. I soak in the light with each and every sense -
Well, I love all of it really. This is a pretty amazing "draft."
I will admit I too am glad we have moved past villanelle and sestina, though the villanelle struggle was nothing like this one!
So much to love here. I fall in love right away with these lines:
this season of promise, sweet like a lamb except for the way it makes my heart break, the way it teases with fat buds and hearty rays. Standing in this golden moment, I wait for it to turn,
and your mention of the "golden moment" immediately evokes Frost and "Nothing Gold Can Stay".
So well done. This poem is so very lush, with so much to think about in its richness.
This poem is perfect for this weekend around here, where we got dumped with 8" of snow yesterday and the pavement is steaming from sunmelt today.
"We start off skeptical, but then feel ourselves turn - we can’t help it - so by the time there’s a late freeze, a break in the light, a lion’s roar, we’ve taken leave of our senses."
Comments 6
against the possibility of lion eating lamb."
"The posts and beams of expectation turn
in the mud, it’s nobody’s job, no dollars or cents
change hands, just hammers and light, until we break
for lunch,"
So many favorite parts here--those are just two I love. This made me feel strong and fragile and peaceful and angry, all within one poem. I am in awe of how visceral you can make any subject feel. Thank you for this!
And, yes, on the letting blood and gnashing of teeth:>)
Laura Purdie Salas
Reply
I love this part:
I yield like a chained dog, like a lame horse,
like the voice in me isn’t mine to raise.
I soak in the light with each and every sense -
Well, I love all of it really. This is a pretty amazing "draft."
I will admit I too am glad we have moved past villanelle and sestina, though the villanelle struggle was nothing like this one!
Reply
I can taste it, I can touch it, this light soft as a lamb.
I am like a planet, around each beam I turn
and turn and turn and turn,
positively dumb with love, my windbreak
against the possibility of lion eating lamb.
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this season of promise, sweet like a lamb
except for the way it makes my heart break,
the way it teases with fat buds and hearty rays.
Standing in this golden moment, I wait for it to turn,
and your mention of the "golden moment" immediately evokes Frost and "Nothing Gold Can Stay".
So well done. This poem is so very lush, with so much to think about in its richness.
Reply
"We start off skeptical, but then feel ourselves turn -
we can’t help it - so by the time there’s a late freeze, a break
in the light, a lion’s roar, we’ve taken leave of our senses."
It's spring baby!
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