Gone to Ground

 

when weather moods to strange
the townies look a certain look
at distant silver cloud sweep

read moveable graffiti
in litter ground spin
that spreads across a walk

they orient to steeple
listen for the Angelus
think-pray deliverance

clear cushions from a porch
plan indoor birthday parties
consult the Almanac

speak quietly with neighbors
when black swans shelter glide
to a weeping willow

and when a wedge of geese
disintegrates to strands
within a frantic clamor

the townies…wise and stoic
know temporary, and already
they are gone to ground

Bonnie Marshall

Artist: Jamie Wyeth
“Other Voices” 1995

 

soul I tear

 

these days my brain
is incessant solitaire…
it flips present moment
into bits and pieces
through a shuffled time

no matter…luck of the draw…
my flimsy card slip apprehension
plays sequential consequence of now
with all time wasted…scattered to a table
where a three dimensioned plane
is littered with distraction

oh…there is no damnation…none

somewhere beyond this sphere
that pulls upon me…holds me down
spreads immensity of space
where stars collapse and recombine
in chaos of a deep design
I cannot think to think

 

Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Salvador Dali

his haiku

 

he shapes juniperus
brevifolia with his fingertips;
eyes closed…he tunes its canopy
pinch…pinch…thin skin needle sharp
to Zen blaze intimation

he shaves limewood…tilia
soft curls peel beneath
his pocket knife
thin…thin to matchsticks
scatter scryed by fingerfuls
on a crimson scarf
stolen…one day…in a war

he writes…fountain pen
black ink on papyrus…

grounded mourning dove;
footprints chaos the white sand
I raked…mounded smooth

 

Bonnie Marshall

Drawing by Andrew Wyeth

there is a ritual for waking

 

there is a ritual for waking

as dreaming traces disappear

like misty steam upon a shower

wall…involving cotton plush

then cloth petal layering

for naked bodyness

there are burnt berry aromatics

poured in a thick white cup

a scratch of knife on toast

news brash of voices, and

the purring of a cat…

then gathering of encumbrances

an instant catch of breath…before

the opening…and closing of

a door

Bonnie Marshall

Art: Richard Diebenkorn

 

Prompting of the Now

 

I think in portioned harvest
gleaned from sustaining waves
of teemed fish-ed sea and stiff
stem seed-ed fields of now’s
swift  impression…all…all image
destined straightaway for decline
in my tissued memory.

I touch instants with my fingers,
hold the seconds of encounter
with dimensional perception
of rough smooth…warm chill,
and I calibrate distinction without
looking for some vast dimension…
for I seek a sensate knowing now
acquaintance with my world.

I command the moment…adjust
choirs of sound…salt sweet sour the
taste within my mouth…and withdraw
to dream sleep quietus until morning’s
promptings of the now.

 

Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by Salvador Dali