Posts Tagged ‘stones’

where landscape does

there is a shadow inside each pebble here.  no sun
will dare fade our place.

there is water making shape around each pebble sleeping here.
we accept sweet water haze like a river is.

there is a note a tone a harmony performing each pebble here.
lay your ear upon our shallow breath.

there are marching shoeless feet dancing each pebble here.
evenings we drink the sharp edges smooth.
there are hearts where each pebble slumbers here.  feel our
pulse the way stone seeds bide their time.

learn your face in the mirror sand.  we feast you here.
we are lost water where your shadows land.

there is a bending back, a reaching arm, a pinch of fingertips,
a heft in the palm, your keen eye beside each pebble here.

here, where we gather breath.
do you notice what shadows do?  have far strangers
at thirst, become this curving sky?


neil reid © august 2012

Easy, historic, to think of our moon this way.  However is there such, as being a love poem to (or with) our kin, farther reached red Mars?  Maybe that’s what this poem is.

And remembering the final closing scene from Bradbury’s “Martian Chronicles”, a moment of recognition renewed.

Written for the We Write Poems prompt #118,  Far far landings….
Write a poem, howsoever inspired, by one of the initial photo images of the far planet Mars as given us by our new, just landed rover Curiosity. (see prompt for photo image) (or click here for the full size image)

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Self-indulgent? Perhaps. Probably. What choice sometimes?

Half-shells, number one

Words are sticks are stones
they have weight they are not birds.

Each uttered is a birth delivered
a solstice falling into long earth.

Brush strokes on canvas more
thousands now. But we don’t count.

All threads, like the call unanswered
last night. Another now eyes closed.

I can’t say happiness. Meanings
could break a spine too adorned.

Quick. Pull the covers before dawn
before sun can see my face.

Morning calls from folded wings.
Scattered seeds the sound they make.

Prayers before first day flight?
Maybe that’s how.

Kissing cousin, invisible moon.

Would your hand brush my bare arm
in casual conversation? Told you
last night, you could make my day.

Just so easily like a breeze.

neil reid © july 2010

neil reid © july 2010

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Soft landing

When I fell to your planet here,
Earth, as you say, and I understand,
but a little presumptuous anyway,
I decided to stay a while.

The milkshakes I like a lot.
Cocoa, unusual, yes!
Don’t have that on Mars,
no, not yours, ours, our home.

Laundromats, I’d agree,
some necessity but not nice.
Square tables, that’s the problem.
They should be round.

Beating memories on stones
down by the creek, we like that better.
Same as your people once did.
Why’d you stop?

You might sing more to your birds.
In time you’ll learn they hold the world
together by their wings. Not logical,
we know, but true all the same.

When the skies fall down,
you’ll be glad you did. Then
you can fly, just like we do.
Farewell, and thanks.

neil reid © june 2010

neil reid © june 2010

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