Tuesday, March 01, 2011

Fair Winds and Following Seas

Sled Kite
—Photo by Katy Brown

—Katy Brown, Davis

Wind spirit— soaring like hope,
untamed as a tethered falcon—
the kite dips and pulls
against its string.

Jeweled fabric snaps in the wind
like a jib anticipates a plunging schooner.
Wild sound and turbulent motion,
barely held by a long white cord:

riding the wind, this fabric bird
draws the human soul upward
to soar— for a moment—
free of all but joy.


Thanks to Katy Brown for the timely poem and pix! Apparently March is "coming in like a lamb", enabling kite-flying and all kinds of other fair weather activities, blessing us with "fair winds and following seas", as the sailors say. (Go to en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Following_sea for the origin of that phrase.) So that's our Seed of the Week: Fair Winds and Following Seas. Send your poetry, photos and artwork to kathykieth@hotmail.com or P.O. Box 762, Pollock Pines, CA 95726.

Meanwhile, Joyce Odam finishes up last week's SOW, Sound Garden, in her usual masterly fashion; thanks, Joycey!

And thanks also to those of you who've agreed to play along with our Ophidian submission deadline, which is today, March 1! It's not too late to send poems; click on The Ophidian in the skinny blue box at the right of this for submission guidelines, or go to rattlesnakepress.com/the_ophidian.html


—Joyce Odam, Sacramento

Hinge on the door lets out a sound.

Fear with its secret, old and thin,
enters and seeks you out, my friend—
fear with its secret, thin and old.

Hinge on the door lets out a sound.


(After “To Musick”—Robert Herrick)
—Joyce Odam

I take your word—spell it olde—
impose the distance ever between

the now and then—enter—and be
there—listen for the beginning

that leads to here—that fills
between—that resonates—

that endures—only a thought long
and a yearn away

from what still charms the soul
and enchants the ears.


—Joyce Odam

…motion of life…the face
in transfigurement of mood
the changing attitude

the invisible look of air
(if we could see it)
as we move through it

the way a silence
shapes to sound
and sound to silence

the way the eyes
draw in their sorrow

the way time moves
within the clock
and yesterday in tomorrow…


—Joyce Odam

Now that it has begun raining
this first day of March
of this continuing year

I will turn off the light,
put down my book
and listen to

the sound the rain makes,
willing the house to be silent
so I can listen myself to sleep.

(First published in One Dog Press)


—Joyce Odam

Today I wear the hum of yesterday,
strum my thoughts like a guitar,
make the
wear my song like grief and tears
for all the humming,
longing years

(First published in Poets Forum Magazine)


—Joyce Odam

Long ago,
when life was new,

trains came through
with ghostly sound

and easy distance.
Nights were long

with listening
and what I know

was whole and strong
—not like illusion.

Where this goes
is just as far

as nowhere is—
I’ve been there, tool


Today's LittleNip: 

—Joyce Odam

first the train
then the rooster
then the clock

clackety rumble
and wake up


—Medusa (who wishes YOU fair winds and following seas...)

Photo by Katy Brown