My goal today was to write a poem without countable meter or obvious rhyme. I hope to tell a story, relying more on imagery than form.
Our children really did find a wood turtle at the creek this afternoon, a less common type of turtle in the Buffalo area. They held him briefly, marveled at his beauty (still dirty from hibernating underground) and put him back where they found him. Little surprises abound!
Turtle
Our children really did find a wood turtle at the creek this afternoon, a less common type of turtle in the Buffalo area. They held him briefly, marveled at his beauty (still dirty from hibernating underground) and put him back where they found him. Little surprises abound!
Turtle
I found a turtle on a creek-rock
and picked him up like a sandwich
fingers on top
thumbs beneath
the way you hold binoculars.
I slid my fingers slowly
across his hard braille body
but I could not read the lines.
Still blind to him and he to me
(eyes tucked in deep)
I set him back on the creek-rock
and biked home for dinner.
That night in waves of dreams
I was that turtle fifty years before
swimming in muddy water
eating earthworms
sunning on shale.
My own grandfather
just a boy
splashed to the creek-rock
picked me up like a sandwich
and tried to read my shell.
No comments:
Post a Comment