Tempting Eve

—Poems and Photos by Taylor Graham, Placerville, CA
 

WINTER, FOREST GENETICS

On a muddy track through woods,
fresh bear-print. Ice on puddles, a crunch
underfoot on our walk; fireworks-
sparkle of frost as my dog
bursts through last year’s pearly-
everlasting biding its time till spring.


 

“STILL LIFE WITH PEACH”

My vanished poem—all but the title lost
now, expunged by decades of computer
upgrades. Lost as Eden, fruit of temptation—
though peaches grew in my own back-
yard, in a childhood lost, a home
unrecognizably gentrified as the old town
keeps upgrading itself.
Archetypal peach with its luscious
light-and-shadow contours, its complex
gradation of colors with just a hint
of rot (did I press too hard with
my hungers?). A still life is devoid of juice.


 

ROAD TO TOWN

Driving that North Fork stretch of E16,
Somerset to Pleasant Valley, I’d think of Reta
and peaches—a stream of mind-meander,
as many curves and climbs and sudden drop-offs
as the way from outback woods to town.
Reta lived out there when she was young; now
she’s gone. We’d pass a peach farm when we lived
out there. Rows and rows of orchard overlooking
the Cosumnes. Once we stopped and bought
a flat. It didn’t last. Surely the serpent
tempted Eve not with apple but with peach.
In this world lasts nothing so sweet.


 

ROYAL ESCAPE

In early morning dim, a sudden dash
across the two-lane on a curve, from brush
to pavement and beyond, a feathered rush
of iridescent blue through roadside trash.
Bright eyes in tails—how all the details clash—
too quick to count, and yet a royal flush
in early morning dim.

No turkey saunter, but peacocks kingly brash
now gone to deeper woods in shadowed hush.
Whose peacocks dare our traffic’s fatal crush?
Still in my mind remains that regal flash
in early morning dim.


 

MARK THE DATE

Soft green scimitars
of winter grass have nodded
their heads into hearts—
miner’s lettuce suddenly
lush under oaks. Spring’s coming!


 

Today’s LittleNip:
 
PEACH PIRATE
—Taylor Graham

You suspect a someone who preaches
of godliness—someone who teaches
by pamphlet he left
on your doorknob—of theft
of your ripe-on-the-tree juicy peaches. 


 

______________________

As always, our thanks to Taylor Graham for her weekly visit from upcountry, with poems and photos and Friday-friendly forms! Plus, today, some talk about the peach, our recent Seed of the Week.

In terms of forms, this week, Taylor brings us "Dry Creek Bridge" (below), which is a Chueh-chu (Chinese "short or short-cut sonnet"); plus "Peach Pirate”, a Limerick of sorts; "Royal Escape”, a Rondine; and another Tanka ("Mark the Date”), all posted above. For more about the Chueh-Chu, see www.writersdigest.com/editor-blogs/poetic-asides/chueh-chu-poetic-forms/. If you want to fiddle around with the Rondine, see www.writersdigest.com/writing-articles/rondine-poetic-form/.

A note that the poetry stage play scheduled tonight at the Ooley Theater, “When I Get Free”, is sold out. For up-coming poetry events in our area, scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
 
__________________

FORM FIDDLERS’ FRIDAY! 

  

It’s time for more contributions from Form Fiddlers! Each Friday for awhile, there will be poems posted here from some of our readers using forms—either ones which were mentioned on Medusa during the previous week, or whatever else floats through the Kitchen and the perpetually stoned mind of Medusa. If these instructions are vague, it's because they're meant to be. Just fiddle around with some forms and get them posted in the Kitchen. 


Here is Taylor Graham’s Chinese form, the Chueh-chu. About the poem, she says that she had it ready to send to me, then was surprised to see last Sunday’s post, the Ted Hughes poem about “The Thought-Fox”. Well, poetic serendipity happens all the time, yes? Wonderful ideas floating around in the cosmos, just waiting for poets to catch them...
 

DRY CREEK BRIDGE
—Taylor Graham
 
A chance encounter past the bridge—
while spring was singing to the creek
a sable vixen flowed from earth.
No sound of passage. Slim and sleek,

she stopped and locked me with her eyes,
a language all God’s creatures speak.
I couldn’t translate. Fox is gone.
Years later, she’s the thought I seek.


Carl Schwartz (Caschwa) was mightily inspired by last week’s talk of the Madrigal form, so he sends us not one, not two, but three of them! Bravo, Carl! (He also speaks of the peach, and I like that he rhymed “erection” and “election”.) I’ve also heard it said that forms with repeated lines, “refrains”, are good to write because you don’t have to come up with so many original lines…
 

BAT CRAZY WRIGGLE
—Caschwa, Sacramento

We have a big presidential election
It isn’t too easy to choose a winner
So short on the saints and big on the sinners

There’s way too much news ‘bout one man’s erection
But we seek mature, no room for beginners
We have a big presidential election
It isn’t too easy to choose a winner

Impeachment is the unkindest rejection
Just marched off to bed, the rest go to dinner
It tears at the seams of one’s deepest innards
We have a big presidential election
It isn’t too easy to choose a winner
So short on the saints and big on the sinners

* * *

DUE FOR A RAISE
—Caschwa 
 
A million in pardons is not quite enough
Excuses, apologies, non-payment of debts
It wears very thin, against noise from the jets

A worker with sickle and scythe in the rough
Must swing and sweat all day, as bad as it gets
A million in pardons is not quite enough
Excuses, apologies, non-payment of debts

The pay is too low for this work which is tough
No coverage for health, and no safety nets
So put up your money to cover your bets
A million in pardons is not quite enough
Excuses, apologies, non-payment of debts
It wears very thin, against noise from the jets

* * *

TREETOP PEACH
—Caschwa

He took a ride up high into the starlight
Looked down upon the heavily wooded hills
Which drop their fruit from treetop to window sills

There were a few that wore the scars of bar fights
But most were fresh like new hundred-dollar bills
He took a ride up high into the starlight
Looked down upon the heavily wooded hills

A peach just sitting alone is not alright
It needs a crust and ice cream, yes all the frills
To make and bake a pie we fill to the gills
He took a ride up high into the starlight
Looked down upon the heavily wooded hills
Which drop their fruit from treetop to window sills

____________________

—Medusa, herself sorely tempted by the peach ~


 

 Fresh Bear Print

—Anonymous Photo

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clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
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