clouds

Summer Storm

~ shoreacres ~ 35 Comments

 

All day the storm’s
been squeezing out the light,
a huge mist grows
and the wind comes up —
nothing to take the boards off
the house, but enough
to set us all on edge,
although these winds,
unlike the easterly winds
of the Mediterranean
carry nothing but air.
Only a few gulls
climb the wind and swing
over the house —
the diving birds gone,
the herons that feed
at water’s edge gone,
and the ducks are sheltering
somewhere out of the storm.
I have the fire started,
a little broth on the stove,
and the house is closed
to the storm — only its light
can reach us.
It picks up the white boats.
                                      “Summer Storm” ~ Daniel Halpern

 

 
Comments always are welcome.
For more information on poet Daniel Halpern, click here.

As If

~ shoreacres ~ 40 Comments

 

Only a beige slat of sun
above the horizon, like a shade pulled
not quite down.  Otherwise,
clouds. Sea rippled here and
there. Birds reluctant to fly.
The mind wants a shaft of sun to
stir the grey porridge of clouds,
an osprey to stitch the sea to sky
with its barred wings, some dramatic
music: a symphony, perhaps
a Chinese gong.
But the mind always
wants more than it has —
one more bright day of sun,
one more clear night in bed
with the moon; one more hour
to get the words right; one
more chance for the heart in hiding
to emerge from its thicket
in dried grasses — as if this quiet day
with its tentative light weren’t enough,
as if joy weren’t strewn all around.
                                           “Mind Wanting More” ~ Holly Hughes

 

Comments always are welcome.

 

 

Far From the Madding Crowd

~ shoreacres ~ 57 Comments

 

What may be the most well-known phrase from Thomas Gray’s poem “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard” certainly fits this view of a road leading through the Brazoria Wildlife Refuge.

On January 6, the madding crowd was elsewhere, leaving the birds, the alligators, and the occasional nature lover to enjoy one another’s company — and the magnificent sky show — in peace.

 

Comments always are welcome.
For more information on Thomas Gray (1716-1771), visit this Poetry Foundation page.

 

Making Way

~ shoreacres ~ 38 Comments


Wayfarer, the only way
is your footsteps, there is no other.
Wayfarer, there is no way,
you make the way by walking.
As you go, you make the way,
and stopping to look behind
you see the path that your feet
will never travel again.
Wayfarer, there is no way
Only foam trails on the sea.
                                  ~ Proverbios y cantares XXIX ~ Antonio Machado (trans. Alan S. Trueblood)

Comments always are welcome.