In recognition of Poetry Month, and to celebrate and highlight our treasure trove of Orcas Island poets, Orcas Issues is pleased and honored to again offer daily poetry during April.
Onto orange urban glow backdropped by snow on jagged rock,
And I sip thin, dry, icy air through narrowed nostrils.
Many mornings I look south, I look east
At the shining wall of fog, at the white flat wall of mist
That smells of spring’s wet green promise.
Many evenings I look west, due west
Into the ombré twilight—salmon, purple, green, with one star—
And breathe in a lusty summer perfume.
I allow autumn, though,
To blind and blindfold me,
To tie me down
To keep me from leaping
Down off my precarious perch,
Down onto the wood-fired smoky skirl of leaves,
Down over the white-capped, wind-harried sea—
I chafe at the friction of the restraints
But shift back
As we all must
Into the wan, dim days and long, dark nights of winter.
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I love your word pictures of the natural beauty that is such a part of life here. As someone who feels restrained by summer, i wish i could “trade” you – i’ll take your “restraint” of fall and winter. You can have my harried and hectic not-enough-rest-too-much-to-do summer.
Lovely poem, Garland! Spoken like a true raven!