That Amber Autumn Moon

 

—Poetry by Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA
—Photos of Bronze Sculptures Near the Scrubs Café 

on the Veterinary School Campus, U.C. Davis, 

by Carol Louise Moon

 

PRIMAL YELLOW

This night the amber autumn
moon rolls along my garden wall.
Night bugs stir. A gray cat basks
in primal yellow with a knowing
in her soul. Her walk along the
wall, an easy saunter, leads her
to the selfsame spot where she,
the night before, sat mesmerized
by twin stars—just above the
moon that rolls along atop my
garden wall. 

 

 

 

 

CLOUDS SCUDDING BY IN UNISON

“… ravenous swearing and pleading
of gulls, donkey bray and hawker cry…”
      —“Holiday Memory” by Dylan Thomas 

 

Ravenous swearing and pleading of gulls
stir the air, brushing back eternity for yet
another hour. And clouds: non-bothered
witnesses to a day otherwise made for
quiet contemplation. The in and out,
the breath of life—alive and lively
words repeated without end. “Amen,”

the gulls reply; donkey bray and hawker
cry over wind-foamed waves. Pier posts
are asylum, accommodation for seagulls.
White splash markings of visitation:
partial pages of a holiday memoir. 

 

 

 

 

TRIOLET AFTER THOMAS PERCY’S
POEM, “WEEP NO MORE LADY”

Do not weep for this flower
all dry and plucked and lame.
It has seen its finest hour.
There’s no weeping for this flower
which has known the gentle
showers;
it has even known its name.
Do not weep for this flower
all dry and plucked and lame.


(prev. pub. in Two Moon Productions)

 

 

 

 

HALLWAY

“If nothing happens, the dust will
drift and the heat deepen… “
        —Reasons to Live by Amy Hempel 

 

He meets her as he does
every day in the hallway;
conversations—the looking up
and the looking down.
If nothing happens, dust will
drift and the heat deepen.

Tonight he meets her at his car;
the shutting of a door,
the sound of rev and music,
the driving here, driving there.
If nothing happens, dust will
drift and the heat deepen.

Tomorrow, he will meet her
in the hallway to find her coyly
dressed, cologne-soaked, and
staring down at carpet dust.
The heat will deepen,
but nothing will happened.

Why, she will ask, are you
looking up and down? Why
the heat of your car and music?
Why the heat of this hallway?
Winter is coming, George.
I fear the dust has settled. 

 

 

 

 

Today’s LittleNip:

YET
—Carol Louise Moon

You say I am so patient,
yet what of this small slug. I
yammer while lying on sable
yard grass, unsteady weaving
yaw-of-ship verbiage. I
yearn for an easier life,
yielding—like this silver slug. 

 

(Pleiades form)

____________________

Our thanks and good morning to Carol Louise Moon today for poems and her photos of the charming bronze statuary at U.C. Davis!

Tonight at 7:30pm on Zoom, Sac. Poetry Center's Literary Lecture Series presents a workshop on The Craft of Poetry with MistyRose at us02web.zoom.us/j/82839339639/. (Meeting Room: 828 3933 9639.) Info: www.facebook.com/events/420983562215135/?active_tab=about/.

____________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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