Now the soul’s
crevasse yaws open —
melt of Spring
yielding up
the dead of winter, life that
slipped between the cracks.
The warming
slurry of coffee
and ground bones
looses floes,
returns lost expeditions,
love in hobnailed boots.
For dVerse Shadorma
You write about the many textures of the thaw of the season, of the thaw of the soul. I love the sense of an imminent quickening, a flow that has not been experienced for quite some time. There will be an Open Link Night this Thursday at dVerse and you can link this up there too. Thanks for your contribution.
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Thanks! It was a lot of fun, just took a few days before I was happy with the second stanza.
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You’ve spoken my sentiments extractly. A great poem,
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Thank you!!
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Has all the ingredients – coffee, bones, life, soul & love. The boots are the best part, though a part of me wanted it to be only one boot.
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Ahahaha! That took me a second! Brilliant, I might redo it.
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Does this poem signal the optimistic view that the Nor’easters are done for awhile? I liked the way you worked it. I’m with Jilly on the one boot thing! 🙂
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Cannot believe I missed that!! Would have been so good.
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🙂
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Honestly though, I was completely stuck on the second stanza for two days. Finally I said, the heck with it. Maybe I should just jam in coffee and bones – and the rest opened right up!
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Sometimes that’s all it takes… voodoo and coffee.
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Every layer in your poem here blends a fine texture of imagery and experimental. I’m loving this form of Shadorma. I had to do a quick research of what it meant and now I know. 🙂
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All lovely and evocative, but that second verse especially is killer
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Thank you!
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Yes, very Mary !
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