Shelly Reed Thieman
Letters Member, Treasurer – Des Moines Branch
In mud nest threatened
by black conclave of clouds,
a tiny robin opens its throat
for the reception of earth
worm and Juneberry.
I rain dance in shallow pond
of lush reeds, massage earth
with bare feet. Sweet thunder
is a kettledrum setting
the cadence of evening.
Ponderosa pine prostrate.
A pair of barred owls startle
when their perch snaps
from its trunk like a phantom
femur from its pelvis.
Mottled with rust, ancient
wind chimes surrender
their clapper and three silver
rods to horizontal rain.
Lightning swings her sword.
I so wish I had the ability to write poetry like you do, Shelly. It is a “masterful work.”
Tracy, such a kind kudo! I read far more poetry than I write, and I really believe it has a profound effect on the quality of my work when I do write. If you are not part of a local poetry group, find one! The workshop experience is so helpful for the editing process. Best, Shelly
I do love this poem.
Thank you, Jeanne, for the gift of your time spent reading, digesting
and commenting. Shelly
Grateful for your reading of my poem, Barb, and the accolades!
Shelly
I LOVE THIS.
B.W.
Love the imagery!
A beautiful poem! There are several extremely effective evocations here, from the branch snapping from under the owls, to the mottled, old wind chimes, to Lightning, personified, swinging her sword (nice alliteration). Masterful work. Thanks for sharing.
Brenda, I am grateful for your very thoughtful comments on my poem.
Sincere thanks!