Friday, April 29, 2011



My hands are like ice
this wet April morning
as I watch ducks
ripple the water in the pond

And yesterday a blue heron
rose from the mist
and earlier a lone turkey
strut the field
and the grass is as green
as Ireland

Alone, I reap the years
when I squandered
my bankroll of
compassion in self regard
my solitude guarded
with fangs

No one to fling their arm
round my neck and draw
me close
No one to share words
in coffee steam
no your shirt is mis-buttoned
comb your hair, where are my

But now
wrens fly from nest
to worm
squirrels chitter and chase
seeds are pressed into soil
laughter through the window

Now, now is the time
to turn it all around
To begin again
To flourish


Blue Sky Dreaming said...

I so like your beginning and especially like your ending...actually like the whole piece...taking flight Suki!

Katiejane said...

Love that shot of the heron!
Yes, it's time for new beginnings. Spring has finally arrived.

...louciao... said...

The memory of having guarded one's solitude with fangs bared, and now reaping the solitary results. But there was no compromise, I think, and that is to be valued. Having someone to tell you your shirt is misbuttoned is not necessarily a good thing! Or to live with someone who wouldn't even notice it was misbuttoned could be worse.
Beginning each day from this point on with the promise of flourishing; yes, taking flight...from the past. Much to consider in this poem.

I find the heron photo amazingly beautiful.

Mim said...

Well that's positive!

Lynn said...

Love the idea of new beginnings!

Lisa at Greenbow said...

Spring has certainly started anew. You are soaring high with the lovely weather. By all means take advantage.