Writing the Self Back In
Drop, leaf, chirp, cry,
A pen skims this toothed page,
Repeating the words – all the sorrow
Of the world, strong horses crumpling,
I write myself back in, bark curl, twig snap,
New green gathering lyric whispers
From a white page, Quiet lonely freedom,
Remembering all I tried to rescue
With my attention. Now, a stream trickles,
First bird sounds, Outline of leaf, memory chill,
A newborn’s warm tin smell of mineral love,
Sharp lines vulnerable in too much white space,
Blurred edges coming nearer, ideas flutter,
Taste like meat hunger on the tongue;
Like strong coffee; bourbon slick on ice,
Jeweled heavy-headed words, this writing
Making more, sweet definition’s
Lemon ache of my pulse.
Christine E. Black‘s work has been published in Aura Literary Arts Review, Antietam Review, 13thMoon, American Journal of Poetry, New Millennium Writings, Nimrod International, Red Rock Review, The Virginia Journal of Education, Friends Journal, The Veteran, Sojourners Magazine, Iris Magazine, English Journal, and other publications. Her poetry has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and the Pablo Neruda Prize. She lives in Charlottesville, Virginia with her family.
Ms. Poe has a rare command of the evocative nature of poetry. Sad, brave and lovely.
I used Christine’s former last name of Poe in my comment. Whatever name is used, Christine’s work is fine.