Poems of nature, life and death, collected
I hope this isn’t too redundant, but I have posted links to a few poems from this last year in chronological order, to show how a sense of mortality approaches and recedes, and approaches again, I guess, always. But also, themes of gender reconciliation, of nature and church, of the innocence of being children, of my attachment to my own children, but also of how we make a part of our human journey with ourselves, so we need to be good company to our own self. I can’t weem to get into my former blogger blogs at the moment, so I wanted to post Potholes, and keep track of the other poems here.
I wrote Fully Adam in the summer of 2012.
Then Potholes in September, 2012
The wind blew free
As we gazed across the gorge
To the distant mountainside
Where rigid ranks of fir
And grass brown slopes
We looked down on cone-laden spruce
And rust-stained madrone bleeding into gray
Fingers stretched toward the sky
And the lichen draped skeleton
Of a long dead larch
Rock cathedrals hovered over
Still pools of water
Lying in the hollow
Of the nave
As we picked our way back
Down the needled path
The bitter scent of bracken
Filled the air
And we stepped aside
To avoid the fresh bear scat.
Then I wrote Last Christmas, 2012
Then Children Playing in the summer of 2013 in hospital.
And recently The Beech Wood, winter 2013