Poem-Sketch: Dandelions

Spring for me
Is autumn for them
With their seed-hair
Bright as grandma’s halo
Then naked as a man
With no teeth
They say
Our work here is done
But you must keep on
Keep on
Don’t fight the wind
Use it

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I wrote this poem-sketch while sitting outside in early spring, one of those days when warmth feels new and precious. Each being is on its own schedule, all of us overlapping and interlocking like a great tapestry of life and death. One of my grandmothers had a head of white, curly hair that shone like a halo when she visited me in a dream.

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Poem-Sketch: Sunlight

Today I slept late

And missed the newborn day
With its soft innocence
Its basket of knitted possibilities

The warm light of the sun
The bright light of the sun
The harsh light of the sun
Exposes a beetle on a leaf of grass
Sharpens each blade into a knife
Silences the flowers

It started before Eve
Was framed, exiled beyond
The first of many walls

Let there be light
Meant let there be
Have and have nots

No one talks now
but trucks and sparrows

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This poem started as notes that I jotted down while drinking my tea outside one morning in the middle of May. I had slept later than I normally do, and I noticed how much stronger the sunlight was, plus how much quieter were the local animals. Instead of peaceful and warm, sitting in the sun at that point was unpleasant and hot! The experience reminded me of this little poem by Valerie Worth and also got me thinking about how power and goodness are relative and contextual. (The link to Worth’s poem is from a tribute in No Water River.) The image shows the fence shadow I was looking at. 

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Journey Through Art In the Orchard

Art In the Orchard is a sculpture trail through an orchard in Easthampton, MA. This year is their fourth exhibition. I’ve always loved experiencing their carefully selected pieces against the backdrop of trees, mountains, and sky. (My poem Garden Man is a response to the second AiO.) This year, I’ve visited twice and the first time I just happened to view the sculptures in reverse order. Three in particular really affected me, and that journey is the heart of the poem below.

If you’re in or near Easthampton this fall, definitely pay a visit to Park Hill Orchard for some fresh apples and beautiful, affecting art.

Easthampton Journey

Art in the Orchard, 2019

The trees in the orchard bear mirrored fruit.

Someone has thrown a fishing net over rotting logs,

shiny rainbows a mysterious catch.

The breeze that makes beautiful things billow 

also stirs strips and sheets of plastic,

sparking hopelessness. The breeze touches all of us

whether sad, sodden, or sinful. Today is sunny and quiet 

in this place of graves and growth.

While someone mourns her lost home

someone else hatches quilted birds from felted eggs.

The worst is the memorial to gun violence,

14,730 people depicted by 14,730 metal washers,

their could-have-been lives shrouding a globe,

rusting in the weather like memory.

Climb upward and you’ll find a pair of tiny lovers

escaping on the back of a sparrow.

Climb higher and you’ll see nothing but a green gesture, 

arm-like shape flung toward the sky.

It’s more absence than substance, like the space

desperate lovers and murdered children leave behind.

I can’t make sense of anything. Everything is curved

but some things are jagged. Everything is jagged

but a serene, painted face moves among them. 

Gun Violence Project

Bird Bird

Lookout

Art referenced, in order:

• Tree of Life - Ted Hinman
• Abundance - Pamela Matsuda-Dunn
• The Three (dis)Graces - Elizabeth Stone & Eva Fierst
• Home - Lynne Yamamoto
• La Cage aux Fowl - The Fiberistas
• Gun Violence Project - Michael Poole
• Bird Bird - Tim de Christopher
• Lookout - Walter Early

Read about them and see pictures: http://www.parkhillorchard.com/media/AIO/2019/artintheorchard-program-2019.pdf