Regular readers of this blog have seen this scene a dozen times. Usually, the picture includes a sunset or a cloud formation, but because of the thick fog, the second line of trees cannot be seen, the mountain in the background cannot be seen, and, behind the broom sedge, everything is a blur. That is what Christmas Day amounted to--a blur of fog, lights, and silence. Oh, well!
Walking in the fog with Luna that morning, I got the idea that I would write a poem describing the fog in several different ways. Not unironically, I had a pretty clear picture of what I wanted to do as I walked, but by the time I drove home, my clear idea had turned into fuzz. The poem will need some major revisions, but all of the poems that you get to read here on the blog are first drafts and rough drafts. Maybe, you could offer some advice about how to improve it. ENJOY!
Foggy Dreams
The forest wears a sheen of white,
A soft ethereal pearl,
Lit by scattered strings of light
That cause the mist to swirl.
Two eyes of heaven pierce the fog
One’s false and one is true.
Their arrows slicing through the bog
Make prisms in the hue.
Last night, a storm from jagged clouds
Poured rain in gusty lashes.
Today, the sun, arrayed in shrouds,
Echoes the storm’s cold flashes,
And with a fire that is not bright
Because the fog resists,
It rolls along, a wheel of light,
Through heaven’s moving mists.
And all the world is black or white
Except where lancing beams
Cut through the haze into our sight
And wake us from our dreams.
Yea, it needs some work!
Well, with all the walking I've been doing lately, I have had numerous encounters (and non-encounters) with the three crow brothers. It is sooooo easy to write these "three crow brother" lyrics. I see what the crow brothers are doing and form it into a jingle, I associate their actions with something in the human world, and then I make some kind of (often silly) philosophical connection. It gives me something to do when I am walking by myself with Luna--besides playing Pokemon Go. I already have three more "three crow brothers" poems ready to go, but I'm saving them for later.
TWO MORE WEEKS OF POEM-A-WEEK! Then, I have to start revising all of them. I haven't decided whether I can share the revised poems until they are put into a book. We will have to see.
Anyway...here are the three crow brothers--or not! ENJOY!
Where Are Them Crow Brothers?
Where are them three crow brothers?
I ain’t seen them around
Though I walk the same ol’ trails
And tread the same ol’ ground.
They’re absent from the fairground fence
And from the dead oak tree.
They’re missing in the cedar grove
As far as I can see.
They’re not among the honking geese
Splish, splashing in the pond.
They’re not perched on the pile of poles
Of which they are so fond.
They’re not up by the gun range
Or cawing in the sedge
I looked for them at buzzard’s roost,
But not to near the edge.
I’ve looked and looked for four damned days.
I can’t believe they’re gone
Nor ever stayed here in this place.
What the hell is goin’ on?
See you next week!
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