Here, the land
is a woman
soft curved in sleep
beneath switchgrass sheets.
Shale spined,
and prairie fleshed -
red skin
veined black
with dreams.
For Grace's prompt at Real Toads
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Sunday, July 13, 2014
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About Me
- Maude Lynn
- Anybody who has survived his childhood has enough information about life to last him the rest of his days. ---Flannery O'Connor
22 comments:
This is very beautiful...."here the land is a woman...." wow.
Opening line is stellar but then all the lines are rich & colorful with dreams ~
Thanks for linking up with Sunday's challenge and wishing you happy weekend ~
Have you ever considered doing a workshop (even an online one) that would help people create rich images and phrases?
I'm serious.
"rich rot dreams'
Nothing better than watching vegetable leavings, grass and leaves turn into this rich rot which gives back through veins and cools the growing places held together by her curves and bones. Love this poem.
Well of course I love it!! You always manage to start my day with a smile, a giggle or a deep thought! Thank you! Have a great new week, MZ!!
Funny how rich rot dreams, opens so many paths and enriches your breath-filled piece.
Such a strong analogy, richly painted in your words and images. It sounds so right, beginning to end.
:-)
ZQ
Nice.
love that close ~
I can see the mountain of her hips... dignity-clad by your words.
Love that last line. And all the other too, but especially that last one.
that last line def puts a spin on this a bit...i was enjoying the imagery...smiles.
Just terrific. Absolutely wonderful. k.
Just terrific. Absolutely wonderful. k.
Just terrific. Absolutely wonderful. k.
Beautiful flow, and a melodic mood.
Poppy
Love the spiritual vibe .. my flute and I would love to accompany you as you read this aloud.
…gotta treat her right, or dreams can definitely turn to rot. another great write
luv your response to the land; i posted my response to Rain today
http://myblog-lunchbreak.blogspot.com/2014/07/1471.html
much love...
I like it, Mom Z. Reminds me of trying to explain the features to a blind man who only knows the features of a woman.
"Here the land is ..." You have us placed, "Here we don't ..." or "Here our hills are ..."
Would there have been anything possibly near poetic if the "land were" a man?
..
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