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Friday, January 25, 2019

Songs of Birds and Shadows

Bird of Prey
—Photo by Chris Moon
—Poems by Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA



PALE YELLOW

There is a place in your childhood house
where, among dust bunnies you found
three things:

1)  a paperclip, only slightly bent
      from its original shape

2)  a copper penny, tails up

3)  a blue and pale yellow marble
      that reminded you of your homeland
      between seas.

You managed to reuse the paperclip, and
you saved the penny in an army tank
piggy bank.

When you left your homeland between seas
and never returned, your neighborhood
buddies all cried real hard.  Paul still has a
POW sticker on his pale yellow microbus.


(first pub. in Grist, Anthology of the MSPS, 2012)






SONGS OF BIRDS AND SHADOWS
        “... where poems are born in the souls of birds;
        where old trees listen to the songs of shadows”
                                                          —Joyce Odam


Where poems are born in the souls of birds
is a crisp green meadow with herds
of cattle chewing on the green of words;

where bright yellow gowen bloom in the spring,
the cows all chew and the birds all sing,
is where I’d want to be found nesting.

Where old trees listen to the songs of shadows
and tell their stories to the fox and the crows—
in a place like this I could lose my sorrows

and gain some insight, or philosophy.  I would
listen, while sitting in the great elm tree,
to the leaves as they whisper back to me.


(first pub. on Medusa’s Kitchen, 2012)






ORIENTAL SALAD DRESSING—and
             Birds of North America
(Found poem created by Carol Louise Moon
with a recipe from
Sunset: Wok Cook Book,
pg.89, Lane Publication Company)



Spread two teaspoons of sesame seeds in a pan:
A Roseate Spoonbill of pink and white coloration
found in mangroves, swamps, and shallow
lagoons moves its partly opened bill from side to
side through water, or mud, feeling for its prey.

Cook over low heat, shaking the pan occasionally
until seeds turn golden:
  The song of the Oven
Bird, teacher, teacher, teacher, teacher... begins
softly and builds to a ringing crescendo!

In a bowl mix 4 tablespoons of white vinegar,
3 teaspoons of sugar:
  In spite of the Snowy
Egret’s quick darting motions and “golden
slippers”, it is often confused with the immature
Little Blue Heron, a white bird with green legs.

Add 1 teaspoon of salad oil and 2 teaspoons
each of soy sauce and lemon peel:
  The hand-
some Yellow-headed Black Bird weaves its nest
of soggy blades of dead grass, and slings it
between reed stems.



 On a Mission



RECIPE FOR RELATIONSHIP
A Hai-Moon created by Carol Louise Moon

Grandma and Grandpa took Cooper to the
barber shop for his first haircut, and saved
some in an envelope. The older two are
growing tall “like sunflowers,” Grandma said.
Coming home, Grandma noticed I’d planted
her favorite little white flowers by the steps.

    cut green onion tops
    lengthwise into strips
    chop the white and set aside

Thanksgiving found all nine of us crammed
into Grandma’s tiny dining room.  She wanted
so much to serve us this year.  Except for setting
the yam-and-marshmallows on fire, it was a
delightful time.  Grandma honestly believes it
will be her last.  Each made sure to hug the
other before departing.

    flake crab into bowl
    add browned cracker crumbs
    shape mixture with your hands

The tumor in Grandma’s throat is threatening;
the brain tumor sits by, watching the clock.
Meantime, Grandma writes letters, pastes more
pictures into scrapbooks for each grandchild.
After fainting in the bathroom, she told Grandpa,
“Hold on another day—paste up another page.”
Grandpa took down the kitchen calendar.

    delicate, crisp
    celery-like stalks
    pale green leaves

My sister is secretly seeking a small apartment
near her house.  The newspaper offers little
hope for prospects, but Grandpa’s going to
need a smaller place after... you know...
Grandma’s gone.

    serve kidney beans
    and plum sauce
    in separate bowls






BURIAL

I lie here near tree roots on moss-laden
lawn, cracked tree bark, yellowed leaves.

I am remembering you, Father—
the last time.  Hospital beds are for
clinging to, and for letting go of… flying away.

And wasps fly at the base of this tree on
this summer day.  Do angels fly prone, or
upright?  Forward, or backward like memory?

I turn on this summer grass, blades pricking
my belly, and I inquire of the angels.

We all have questions about the afterlife,
even the wasp, his stinger engaged. 
Is he so informed?

The gray squirrel knows of these things
better than I.  He flicks his tail, buries
a large seed, then scurries off.



 Gotta Go



Today’s LittleNip:

SUSANNA
—Carol Louise Moon

Sit beside her in your alpine cabin,
snow packed to windows.
Sip cider together and tell her
September Truths—that her breast
surgery in autumn moves a
single mountain, keeps her near in
spring, you sighing on her one breast.


(first pub. in
September Truths Chapbook, 2014)
 
_________________

Thanks today to Carol Louise Moon for her fine poems and rock ring photo, and to her brother, Chris Moon, for his wonderful bird photos. To see more of the work the Moons have done together, go to www.ckmphotography.com/.

About her poems, Carol Louise says that “Recipe for Relationship" is what she calls a Hai-Moon, a take-off on the Haibun. Instead of prose paragraphs about a journey interlaced with haiku, she has designed a poem with paragraphs about family relationships interlaced with three recipe lines (no syllabic count required). Just like the haiku reflecting the previous paragraph, so the three recipe lines reflect the previous paragraph of the poem about family relationships.

Tonight from 7-8:30pm, Speak Up: The Art of Storytelling and Poetry will meet at Avid Reader on Broadway in Sac., featuring poems, stories, and open mic on the theme of “Resolutions”. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about this and other upcoming poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.

—Medusa



 Rock Ring
—Photo by Carol Louise Moon
(Celebrate Poetry!)











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.