"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2016 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw.


Polly Alice

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Weeds

My prayers are like weeds along the side of the path
fuzzy short ones-- good for the outhouse
sprawling canopies of fruitless vines
fiery trumpet bushes that signal it is August
tiny notes of joy

Strangling creepers, trees of thorns, these are my prayers
interrupted by little blue tailed skinks
the cinching murmur of gnats
but maybe those are prayers too

My prayers are like the weeds along the side of the path
chicory as blue as the sky, Queens Anne's Lace
Magenta honeyed clover swarmed by bees
Thistle down catching the breeze, Deadly nightshade
orbs of seductive poison

This tiny shell skidding over the rocks
from my false steps, that one is like my prayers too
Leaving silvery trails of indecision, they begin
full of confidence only to die in this fireball of a noon

you already know what I'll do--
I'll throw the snail over toward the creek where
the mud is soft and smells worse than sin
there it can cool off, hope to revive
in the protection of the shade

and I know you'll find it there-- You can't hide
easily, I can hear your music even through
the earbuds in my ears. Nothing keeps out
the sound of the crickets from these weeds

I hear them--
love      love     love     love
    love     love     love     love
their cry is what I walk on, what
I breathe, and the pace I speak
And the cicada are louder, competing
with the sun for power over power
and they say louder and louder
I aaaaaaaaam
I aaaaaaaaam
I am



No comments:

Post a Comment

Please leave your comments here.