Monday, November 13, 2006

Remainders

















listening to the chimes in the wind,
to the soft brush of branches
against the side of the house,
you curl your body
around the hollow of the night

around the quiet ache of losses,
count the remaining leaves
that whisper their stories to the glass,
clouds that stumble across the sky
longing for the pinpricked stars,
and the lonely half moon
that carries forward

curl around that pool of darkness,
drink of it and sleep,
rest and dream and wait
for morning's slow salve
the silent song of
the eastern sky


This is a manipulation of a stock photo.

18 Comments:

Blogger floots said...

absolutely knocked out by this
(even this old cynic has a romantic side) :)
beautifully expressed and a great pic to go with it
thank you

11/13/2006 9:20 AM  
Blogger robin andrea said...

I looked out the window in the middle of the night, awakened by the storm. The wind was howling and the tree shadows danced on the the wall, cast in the light of that lonely half moon. It's really nice to know that you saw it too.

11/13/2006 10:48 AM  
Blogger garnet david said...

"count the remaining leaves
that whisper their stories to the glass"

this open ended image gently allows for the anxiety of not knowing what will come, when Winter will end, when the glass will no longer separate us from those whispered stories.

11/13/2006 11:01 AM  
Blogger polona said...

simply beautiful, mb!
that last stanza... just perfect!

11/13/2006 12:25 PM  
Blogger Pauline said...

rest and dream and wait - lovely!

11/13/2006 12:54 PM  
Anonymous beth said...

The photo made me gasp.

And this particular poem said a lot to me. I especially love "the pinpricked stars"and "the lonely moon that carries forward" - how true - and I liked to think of the crescent of the moon and the curl of our bodies.

11/13/2006 1:54 PM  
Blogger rdl said...

Great!! love the poem and the photo!

11/13/2006 2:14 PM  
Blogger firebird said...

I think I'll sleep better after drinking this delicious sunset photo and soulful poem...

11/13/2006 3:15 PM  
Blogger Pat Paulk said...

Nights are always the loneliest, "longing for the pinpricked stars". All the images here are spectaculiar!! No peaking here!!

11/13/2006 3:20 PM  
Blogger leslee said...

Very nice. Drinking of that darkness, and waiting for the morning's slow salve. Very evocative.

11/13/2006 4:33 PM  
Blogger charlie said...

there is no salve for the quiet ache of losses, mb. nothing. not even the silent song of the eastern sky.

but this is a stunningly beautiful piece of writing.

11/13/2006 5:59 PM  
Blogger mermaid said...

'for morning's slow salve'

All the sky residents are not so different from us dreamers down here.

The morning is a slow salve that soothes.

11/13/2006 6:13 PM  
Blogger Bitterroot said...

Very beautiful. This is disciplined and evocative writing. So lovely!

11/13/2006 9:46 PM  
Blogger Mary said...

your poems make me cry ...

just beautiful.

11/14/2006 3:12 AM  
Anonymous Becca said...

awesome ...

11/14/2006 6:54 AM  
Anonymous silvermoon said...

WOW! I felt myself cocooned in a warm hug, blanketed by your beautiful words. This is one of your best.

11/14/2006 11:54 PM  
Blogger M. Shahin said...

"clouds that stumble across the sky
longing for the pinpricked stars,"

This is quite an unexpected image, and a delight to read. And I love that sky - it is poetry itself. Amazing words and amazing photo!

11/15/2006 10:25 AM  
Blogger MB said...

Thanks, all, for such wonderful and thoughtful comments. I'm savoring each one.

11/17/2006 1:39 PM  

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