Somewhere inside us
is a wolf hunting for prey
and marking its territory.
It prowls the perimeter
of our thoughts, scratching
and leaving its scent. There is also
a rabbit in there
who has not yet figured out
she’s wearing a bear costume
that her mom dressed her in long ago.
The wolf has kept its distance
until now, but that rabbit
is getting hot and thinking
how nice it might be to sit out in the field
and feel the sun on her back.
If she takes off that heavy coat,
she will learn fear.
If she doesn’t, she will never
learn who she is.
Archive for December, 2014
Human Nature
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, rabbit, self discovery, wolf on December 20, 2014| 2 Comments »
In the Distance, the Sound of Chains
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged death, ekphrasis, life, poem, poetry, window on December 19, 2014| 1 Comment »
No space of regret can make amends for one life’s opportunities misused!
― Charles Dickens, ”A Christmas Carol”
Through the window, I see myself,
dead. The white sheet doesn’t cover
my feet, and they stretch, stupid and pink,
off the edge of the gurney. There is too little
callus on them. They should be dirty
from walking the world. What a waste to die
with clean feet. The earth would not be
so covered in dirt if we were supposed to stay clean.
And there I am, facing away from the corpse.
So human to want to turn away. My sleeves
are rolled up, but my hands hang empty.
And here on the street, I see in the window
some semblance of my face,
not quite transparent, but substanceless.
I pick up a rock small enough to throw,
big enough to break the glass. No.
I drop the rock, untie my shoes instead.
This poem is a response to a picture, part of Rattle’s Ekphrasis challenge …
http://www.rattle.com/images/ekphrasisbernal.jpg
Taking Lessons from Hermes
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Hermes, poem, poetry, thoughts, trickster on December 17, 2014| 1 Comment »
These wicked thoughts—
sometimes I try
to track them back
to their evil origins.
Perhaps they have learned
to put their sandals on backward
because they appear
to have started
with me.
Did Eve Feel This Way, Too?
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, wilderness on December 17, 2014| 4 Comments »
I was a wilderness once.
I was howl and burrow
and shriek and claw.
I was moon and snow
on snow. Sometimes,
just before I set the alarm
I still can smell it,
the sharp gray scrape of sage,
the sweetness of trees
I never learned to name.
Short and Sweet
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged love, poem, poetry on December 15, 2014| 1 Comment »
come closer
love, so close
you can hear
the red thrum
of my please
be a bee
to my poppy
a drop of
rain to
my
heat,
be sun
to my
goldening
opening
wheat
Letter to _______________________
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged beauty, poem, poetry, self worth on December 15, 2014| 3 Comments »
I want to stand behind your mirror
so that every time you see yourself
I speak for your reflection and say,
“You are beautiful. Every inch
of your body is beautiful,
is exactly the way it should be.
I love your eyes, your hair, your neck,
your arms, I love your shoulders,
the color of your skin. I love
your waist and your hands and
your legs and your every toe.”
I have seen the way you scowl
at yourself, have seen you steal
a look in the mirror and wince
at what you see. I see you,
I see you so clearly, the way
you open your heart to the world
and close it to yourself.
Your beauty has nothing to do
with the clothes that you wear
or the length of your hair or
your height or the number
on the scale. You belong
in this world just as you are—
you are life’s ambassador
building a bridge between you
and all other life, and what
a beautiful job you do.
I see you, I see you. And if I cannot
stand behind your mirror, then
I will nourish the seed in you
that knows with all certainty
how beautiful, how vital,
how essential you are, I will
nourish that seed until it blooms
so fully that never again
will you let any mirror or
anyone else tell you otherwise,
not even yourself. But it
is an inside job—no matter
how much I might suggest
you are beautiful, the conviction
must come from you. See how
beautiful you are even
in how you believe you are not
beautiful? Each day more you
than the day before.
What the Parenting Books Can’t Teach Us
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged forgiveness, love, parenting, poem, poetry on December 13, 2014| 2 Comments »
Easy enough to love them when they are snuggling
with us and making up songs or stories. Easy to love them
when they are sleeping and still. But deeper the love
that blossoms when they are kick or shout
or recoil from our gentlest touch.
And deeper still the love, love like a pellucid, icy
mountain lake that we choose to jump into and swim
when we learn to forgive them for not forgiving us.
Oh how it takes our breath away, and painful as it is,
we can’t help but think how good it feels, how clear.
The Impulse is to Hold On
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged letting go, love, poem, poetry, roses on December 13, 2014| Leave a Comment »
these lovely days—
scattering their petals
like summer roses
A Few Thoughts on Giving Poetry Gifts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poetry book, poetry retreat, poetry sessions, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer on December 13, 2014| 2 Comments »
Dear poetry friends,
Thank you for receiving these poems every day, some of you for nearly nine years! I am grateful for every response you send me, grateful that you read them at all and give them wings.
If you are interested in buying a book of poems for someone for the holidays, well, I just happen to have a few. I would, of course, be happy to sign the books, too, with a message to the recipient. You can find most of my books and CDs on my website at http://www.wordwoman.com/books/books.htm , but if you are interested in ordering my book of poetry conversations with Rumi, “The Miracle Already Happening,” then you will need to send me an email.
And here are two other gift ideas: After turning down requests to do poetry one-on-one sessions for years, I finally made room in my schedule to work with (more play, really) a few select clients who are interested in exploring their own voices and improving their writing. I am just loving it! Playing poetry with people is one of my favorite things to do. The cost is $75/hour, or $350 for five sessions paid in advance. Sessions can be done in person for San Miguel County residents (perhaps Ouray County, too), or on the phone. If you are interested, send me an email at wordwoman@mesa.net. Maybe it could be a gift for you!
And lastly, I am offering a four-day painting and poetry retreat for women in late February, co-teaching with the phenomenal painter Brucie Holler. It’s offered through the Ah Haa School, and you can find out more about it here: http://www.ahhaa.org/calendarize/going-going-five-day-art-writing-retreat-women/ If you live out of town, they can help you find housing to suit your budget.
Soon I will be letting you know about other writing class opportunities in January and February in Telluride and Ridgway, some of them for free, plus several performances coming up, including two Literary Burlesque performances in Paonia and Telluride.
Again, thank you for participating in this poem-a-day practice with me,
Rosemerry
For My Brother, Who Must Have a Whole Closet of Soft Green Shirts
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged brother, gift, giving, green, memory, poem, poetry, sister on December 12, 2014| 5 Comments »
For Christmas, I want to buy you the softest green
shirt, green the color of Wisconsin in springtime,
so green we could almost fall into the color
and find ourselves running once more to the lake,
cane poles in hand, to see if the fish are biting.
Or we might find ourselves in the dark green woods
behind the neighbor’s house where we used to dig
in the old junk yard for shards of blue and white porcelain.
But green is my favorite color, not yours. And those days
of running down the great grassy hill are gone, are gone
and faded. You like blue. Forgive me, brother, for buying
you again for Christmas another green shirt. Oh hush,
can you hear them, the cicadas, trilling through the leaves
of the old willow tree, serenading the warm summer night?