Thursday, May 27, 2021

Heaven-Bound

 
—Poetry and Tapestry Photos by Carol Louise Moon, 
Placerville, CA



A HARBOR SEAL’S HARBOR

There must be a place
where harbor seals harbor,
and on a marina dock
is as good a place as any—

unless that is where
I am walking to my boat,
and a huge seal is sunning
himself in a fierce manner

with his great back arched,
his face to the dark clouds—
his great red mouth gaping
and his sharp off-white teeth
gleaming in the bright
afternoon sun between clouds.

I run past him quickly and
jump off the dock and over
the gunnel of my small craft,
turn the ignition key—and
wait in silent fear for the
engine to come to life. 
 
 
 

 
 
CRESCENDO
(Espinella)

The day has yet to play such tones,
such melodies as I have heard
enhancing every rhyming word—
a lyric—as the day postpones
its end. I have an ear which hones
into the rhythm of each soul
I care about. I feel the roll
of hours throughout the day with lack,
needing final notes to tighten slack—
like sleepy midnight bells to toll. 
 
 
 

 
 
CITHARA NOVA
(Ghazal)

The strumming of a harp guitar? Or harping
sound of John’s Cithara Nova lever harp?

Tall, broad shouldered, handsome Koa wood
planks in the artisan’s hands; he builds harps.

Rock/Hammer/Scissors: game of draw or win.
A harp builder draws designs and wins at harps.

Savarez harp strings from France, 36 in all,
strung and tuned. He pulls at my harpstrings.

This harp sits in his shop, waiting his careful
reach and touch. A bird sits atop a mute harp.

I have recorded his days, videos and photos, to
chronicle the building of the Harp Maker’s harp.

This wooden beauty is taller than this poet. By
year’s end—could this harp be my harp?

____________________

HEAVENLY
(Pleiades)

The harpist takes her place, a
tapestry cherry wood chair.
Taking her harp in hand she
tilts it to her shoulder. The
time it takes to begin—a
tantalizing breath away.
Truly, we are heaven-bound. 
 
 
 

 
 
LINCOLN
(Palindromic/Mirror Poem)

Lincoln walked miles
wearing down
those old shoes
just to return 2 cents.
It wasn’t about the money.
It was about ethics:
making a wrong right,
following through,
valuing your neighbor.
Following through
making a wrong right;
it was about ethics.
It wasn’t about the money,
just to return 2 cents.
Those old shoes
wearing down—
Lincoln walked miles.
 
 
 

 
 
APPLE BLOSSOMS
(Palindromic/Mirror Poem)

Soon there will be
white apple blossoms.
The twigs being bare,
we could use popped popcorn—
we could cut branch shapes,
brown card stock.
Glue could also be used on
brown card stock.
We could cut branch shapes.
We could use popped popcorn,
the twigs being bare.
White apple blossoms
soon there will be.

___________________

FIG COOKIES
(Question Poem)

Figs?
Where, right here on our property?
When did you plant a fig tree?

Where?
Why behind the shop?
Why didn’t you tell me?

So?
You didn’t want me to have some?
Well then, did you save some for me?

When?
What do you mean all summer?
Don’t we have a recipe for fig cookies?

Why not?
Are there still figs on the tree?
Why am I buying fig bars!!? 
 
 
 

 
 
FRINGE WITH NIGHT
(Found Poem taken from
“For a Dead Lady”  
by E.A. Robinson)

Now, a faded hidden world,
the wonder of language shifting,
many divine, faint answers…
Saturn rising with scattered applause.
We delve into all inexorable causes.

___________________

Today’s LittleNip:

SMALL FROG
(Pentastich)

warm spring morning a
small dark frog watches
reddened leaf skitter—
happiness, despite
prying eyes of Owl

___________________

—Medusa, with many thanks to Carol Louise Moon for sending us these fine poems today! Form Fiddlers will be tickled by this gold mine of forms!
 
Tonight (5/27), 7:30pm, Sac. Poetry Alliance presents Native American Poetry: Traditional and Contemporary Visions and Themes, an online Literary Lecture by Lucille Lang Day. Host: Frank Dixon Graham. Zoom: us02web.zoom.us/. Facebook info: www.facebook.com/events/965954774208166/?acontext{"source"%3A"29"%2C"ref_notif_type"%3A"event_aggregate"%2C"action_history"%3A"null"}&notif_id=1621861694283862&notif_t=event_aggregate&ref=notif/.
 
 
 
...despite prying eyes of Owl.
—Public Domain Photo Courtesy of Joseph Nolan, Stockton, CA
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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—
for poetry, of course!