—Poems and Photos by Carol Louise Moon,
Placerville, CA
EARS TO HEAR
“The moon appeared.
On the hill stands a man,
a face is hidden under his hat.”
—Sakutaro Hagiwara (1889-1942)
“The moon appeared.
On the hill stands a man,
a face is hidden under his hat.”
—Sakutaro Hagiwara (1889-1942)
The moon appeared
to them to be a ball of gold,
and so they lusted once again
for the golden calf—
the meltdown and formation
of former days.
On the hill stands a man
holding the scales of justice
in one hand, and a law book
in the other. “Drop them! Drop
them both,” they cry out. But
a face is hidden under his hat
so that the children of the land
don’t know the nature of his
smiling, not sure if the man
has ears, at all.
NATURE’S WAY
I don’t ask much of Nature, or her proof.
This rook has prey he carries with his feet.
For better grip he drops it to the street
then brings it up atop my neighbor’s roof.
This is why I try to stay aloof.
I hope that what he caught is just a rat,
and not a baby bird—just like a cat
would snatch, bite in half and carry off.
The sky (a silver screen) with shadowed rook
now magnifies the scene. I take a look
up to the gable, then quickly back away.
This horror is considered Nature’s way,
but I cannot approve the prey he took.
LEAF OF KNIGHT’S VINEYARD
Forgotten lace-rimmed yellow leaf,
voiceless in your circumstance—
when I pass by I bend a knee
perceiving your defenseless stance,
a piteous fall to ground from grace,
too soon a fall by awful chance.
What force against your blushing youth
has taken your inheritance.
And others, just as youthful too,
have joined you in this dusty dance.
They languish on this valley floor
along my winding vineyard fence.
You, my damsel, sweet and fair, have
pulled my heart strings that, perchance,
you might reside in Castle Grand
upon my hearth—beside my lance.
OF REMEMBRANCE
What holds us in this calm
memory? Lamps of thought
ablaze beyond the curtain cloth.
Is it gift and gain that holds
this light and keeps us
in this calm remembering?
The breeze that blows and
moves the gentle flame
breathes through us now.
We see the cloth of curtain
moving toward the light—
the light of thought and memory.
Today’s LittleNip:
IMAGINATION
—Carol Louise Moon
It is a dream of despair
impossible to escape—
I wonder—How now? Then as
if an audible voice the
instant I would have given
in to despair, Look up and
imagine you otherwise.
______________________
Our thanks to Carol Louise Moon for this morning’s beautiful poems, celebrating sound and rhythm with such dexterity!
Tonight from 7-8pm, Connie Post will launch her new book plus open mic on Zoom: us02web.zoom.us/j/81323282510/. Meeting ID: 813 2328 2510. Info on Facebook: www.facebook.com/events/1365301977002230/. Hosted by Malaika King Albrecht.
And also tonight, Sac. Poetry Center’s Comedy in Poetry: What’s so funny? with Carlos Alcala and Frank Graham takes place on Zoom. Register in advance for this meeting at us02web.zoom.us/meeting/register/tZYldOCrrTIsGd3zdcXdxMayV4fVqsEXFc8Y/. Here’s the Facebook link:www.facebook.com/events/745325629642976/?active_tab=about/.
______________________
—Medusa
______________________
—Medusa
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry!
