Of The Moon

 

And The Trees Dance On
—Poetry by Joyce Odam and Robin Gale Odam,
Sacramento, CA
—Photos by Joyce Odam

MAD-MOON DANCE
—Joyce Odam

First I dance with you.
And then I dance alone.
Then I dance with the man

and then
another man.  
Then I dance with the woman.

And then I dance
with the other two women together
as we whirl the child.

Then I dance alone again;
I dance
with the dying moon;

I dance
with the whirling ground
and with the spinning trees.

Then I dance with
the men,   and the men,   and the men
who dance me again until I fall.

And the moon falls with me.
And the trees
dance on with the shadows.


(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 1/24/11)

 

 

Full Moon Wanes

 

ISLAND
—Joyce Odam

On my island are places I won’t go :

the hole in the middle, the edge that fits the bay.
Another long night wears away.

Another full moon wanes.
The world seems made of broken window panes.

Life cannot swim . . . death cannot float;
how can I leave . . . there is no boat.

It’s the only land I know.
 

 

 

 

The Day Is Ending

 

FULL MOON IN DARK WATER
—Joyce Odam

this full moon—low enough
to pluck from the reeds
of this small stream
that settles
into
evening—
the heavy day
dragging itself down—
down—through the rising reflection

__________________

THE FULL MOON HANGS SO LOW
THE DARKNESS OPENS

—Joyce Odam

trees of white bend and make their motion
in the surrealistic whiteness
of their dance

old women move in memory—
their tethered forms soul-caught against
the shadowy landscape quiverings—

and they dance together—the women and
the trees—interchanging in the light
which startles them
                                      

(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen, 10/28/11) 

 

 

I Sleep And The Moon Escapes

 

INSOMNIA IX
—Robin Gale Odam

It was all about sleep—the light supper,
the comfort of chamomile. But here I lie,
contemplating tea leaves—how they swirl

and settle in divination. The leaves of the
day fall behind me in revelation—and the
leaves of night stir within me as confession.
                                

(prev. pub. in Brevities, August 2016)

 
__________________

OF THE MOON
—Joyce Odam

The gold water drowns into the night,
the light of the moon…

Save me, says the full moon,
orange and low.

I hold out my hands
to catch the moon…

The moon drifts into the water.
I am too far.

I follow the moon-path of the water.
My eyes do the catching.

My eyes
are full of the moon.

I close my eyes
and lose the moon.

I sleep and the moon escapes
into the sky on the water.

The light illuminates my wonder.
I am in my dream now—

the drifting dream,
the falling moon—

the moon-filled pond that is now
a shallow drowning river.

                                
(prev. pub. in Medusa’s Kitchen,  7/5/16)

 

 

 

Night's Heavy Clouds

 

pale starlight, the nightingale
now the aging mirror
the old moon . . . the ragged clouds

glass is liquid, rust is fire
songbird and the tattered prayer 

 

—Robin Gale Odam

 

 

 

Dark Moon Night

 

OLD MOON
—Joyce Odam

The moon comes up each night and floats

       across the sky,
I am that sleepless one who stares
       and marvels why.

Full moons leave me wandering
       the mind’s abyss
where I explore my restless thoughts—
       that endless list.

Alas, for all those dark-moon nights
       when life enshrouds—
those nights that let no moonlight through
       night’s heavy clouds       

___________________

Today’s LittleNip:

PARANOIA
—Robin Gale Odam

She faced the mannequin—
stop mocking me, she whispered.

 
(prev. pub. in Brevities, June 2014)

___________________

I’ve been mooning after some fine poetry from Joyce and Robin Odam, and here it is, celebrating our Seed of the Week, Full Moon! A time of Thanksgiving this is, for these poets and for all those adepts who keep the Kitchen cooking, week after week.

Be sure to check each Tuesday for the latest Seed of the Week. Our new SOW is “Bountiful”. Send your poems, photos & artwork about this (or any other) subject to kathykieth@hotmail.com. No deadline on SOWs, though, and for a peek at our past ones, click on “Calliope’s Closet”, the link at the top of this column, for plenty of others to choose from. And see every Form Fiddlers’ Friday for poetry form challenges, including those of the Ekphrastic type.

___________________

—Medusa

 

 

 

 —Photo Courtesy of Public Domain

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
(http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/wtf.html)
in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
the daily Kitchen for happenings
that might pop up
—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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.

Find previous four-or-so posts by scrolling down
under today; or there's an "Older Posts" button
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by typing the name of the poet or poem
 into the little beige box at the top
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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—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!

 

LittleSnake’s Glimmer of Hope
(A cookie from the Kitchen for today):

an arbor of stars
lights up the meadow,
gives away all
its secrets…