Category Archives: poetry

November dream, Bearsville 2017

The crow,
its call a silver
knife,
laughed, and broke
the morning’s
curved blue air.
A squirrel, in luxurious November
fur,
chittered,
scolding, nervous,
insistent, holding firm,
soft,
close to my right hand,
sitting
in a Japanese maple tree.

That night,
I’d dreamed I stood
unshod,
on Bunny Knoll, the neighbor’s
flowering trees reaching
over the fence,
dripping,
bower-like,
with Rousseau colors, smells and
heavy leaves,
to shield my voids.
Where twigs had fallen,
my feet hurt.
Otherwise, the lawn was
cool and soft.
My heart felt childish,
and I felt whole, and at liberty
to do what will and mood
allowed.
I called to no one,
“Here I am!” No one heard.
I’d called the sky,
and you,
to let you know
I’m here and whole,
and like a child,
happy, happy.

This was two nights before
USA Election Night 2017.
I took it to mean I would
be growing younger.
Now I think it meant
we’ll all get well.

Soft Basket, 2017 edit

On my shoulder
— slung on straps,
in three kinds of grasses,
three colors thickly-striped,
woven to a shape something like
a flattened plum —
a basket holds
my shadow-self,
a river’s stones,
cool hollows where my
bare feet feel the earth,
the cool of spume
and morning suns,
the cooler tenth-month moon,
and, hanging in the apple tree,
a hooped wicker basket
of brinjals and walnuts
and, on a table below,
an emergency lantern.
Provisions to feed
and lamp to light
my how’s.
How
ten years ago
I dreamed your name
and dreamed
your call
and dreamed your hair,
my fingers there,
our quiet talk,
our kisses
between words.

June evening in Bearsville

A half-lit moon
in subdued sky,
an evening breeze
and rustling leaves,
and scents of pine
and sweetgum,
high
above the intermittent
runs of tires
on Yerry Hill,
and Sawkill’s
steady, hissing sough.

Then two birds sing
and one dove mourns
the loss of day,
while darkest squirrel
flies shadowed path
along
the sage in bloom.

#spring #roughhaiga

Late March, 2017

Velvet rain. Small clatter of
sleet. Velvet again,
& the duck chime’s bamboo notes.

#spring #haiku

November rain, Woodstock, duck and bamboo chimes, woods, fog, yard, sage
November rain, Woodstock, duck and bamboo chimes, woods, fog, yard, sage (digital photo), by heather quinn