Marianne Paul ~ 2
leaving tracksbefore i die i want to know the tracks
of the other passersby - wolf, fox cougar, bear, deer, jackrabbit those who have come and gone before me, the secretive the memory of their presence pressed into the softness of the riverbank into the dampness of the trail into the sinking acceptance of the snow ghosts to my human eye although maybe they watch me even now from the undergrowth the inner spaces of the trees and cave openings camouflaged in plain sight wearing nature like i wear a coat the tiny ones too, light on their feet the scrawls of the chickadees and the chipmunks the voles and the mice, those that scurry for safe covering into the thatch and scratch of the briars, the brave ones that dash across the open expanse heart beating life and death risking the shadow overhead marking the ground of their passing
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desert windspoetry women tell women
in those places of trust and gatherings where the moon moves through cycles full as a mother's breast and then as empty where wild poppies sway white as virgin, pink as pout crimson-bruised as first sex where mountains rise and fall like breath catch with the sharp clear edges of pain and childbirth the rugged beauty too where words and sorrows are communal without tags of authorship, ownership, copyright for who owns the desert winds and the sandstorms escapes the fighting season hasn't held a broken body in her arms and wailed wisdomsprouted communities
with ironic names that mimic nature misplaced sentimentality harkening of woods, meadows, wetlands the deep, the dark, the moist poetic street signs epitaphs to past place, past earth ghost flora, ghost fauna forests that shimmer like shadow just beyond touch replaced in the here and now with park-ettes splash pads instead of ponds mulch and day-lilies and saplings perfectly placed un-sown by root and wind nor carried as seed by fur or feather to set down home in unexpected places propagate with wild, untamed efficiency and inexplicable wisdom |
