for a lark she tacks butcher paper,
arms’ reach horizon stretch,
to boathouse plywood siding…
view of the lake’s west shore
with sketching charcoal
she arches mountains shoulder thrust
a blur of shore…wrist smudged
all barefoot energy…and then
with edges incomplete…
lured to the shore
spiked with water dials
of sable seeded cattails
that track a downing sun
then across the gap-planked dock,
past cleated runabouts
that rock to water slap…
she sits cross-legged
on day warmed wood…
to hold in memory
the lonesome croons
of grebes and loons…
and chart a spreading set
that slides to lie gold burst
behind black charcoal mountains
10 thoughts on “charcoal mountains”
“spiked by water dials” !!! & the close of those last, 3, lines:
Yea! Glad you like these lines..
This is wonderful read aloud Bonnie…I heard it in my head first reading and had to try it.
That’s reassuring, Jana, and I appreciate the extra effort. )
effort? …. the pure consonant resonating joy of it
Oh…to say “thank you” never is enough.
Even though I do not always understand every subtil meaning of your poetry, I really enjoy and love what I get. It makes me think…
And that’s very, very important to me. You are most kind, valued reader, to say so.
reminds me of the artist who painted a mural for the emperor in ancient China who finished by painting a cave-opening in it and disappearing through it never to be seen again
Now, that made me smile. I shall never read the poem the same way again…and that is good.