Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘fable’

The Goose’s Sister

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on December 11, 2024| 6 Comments »


 
 
They loved those golden eggs,
that farmer and his wife,
loved how they glittered in the sun
as if they were sun itself.
They loved the new clothes,
the new barn, the new sharp knives
they could buy with those daily golden eggs.
They loved the great luck of not needing
to work so hard,
loved how those eggs changed the way others
thought of them. Loved the way
it changed the way
they thought of themselves.
 
But I, I loved the goose,
loved the golden cluck of her,
how it glittered in my ears
when she called to me.
I loved the sparkling soul of her,
how she gave and gave of herself every day.
How she moved through the barnyard
same as any of the rest of us who laid eggs
with ordinary albumin, ordinary yolks.
And her ordinary heart, and her ordinary
guts, I loved, those, too.
After she died, the farmer and his wife
were left with nothing but shame.
But she left me her treasure—
how it glitters through my tears.
Now that she is nowhere, she is everywhere.
her magic more real than ever.
Everything that shines
reminds me of her.

Read Full Post »

Thank You

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , on March 30, 2021| 4 Comments »


            for all poetry friends
 
 
I am perhaps the crow
who, parched, unable to fly,
arrives at the pitcher
and realizes
I cannot reach the water.
But in this story,
there are no pebbles nearby.
In this story,
there are other crows
who arrive, each
with pebbles they drop
into the pitcher.
You, my friends,
are the crows.
Your words
are the pebbles.
And slowly, sweet miracle,
the water rises.
 

Read Full Post »

After the Tortoise Won the Race

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on March 23, 2021| 10 Comments »




It was the strangest thing.
She’d never cared before about winning.
Life had been about basking in the sun
at the entrance to her burrow.
Sometimes when she was warm enough,
she’d plod off in search of leaves.

Now, she thought about finish lines.
The feel of the ribbon on her prehistoric nose.
The roar of the crowd as she crossed.
They say tortoises don’t have feelings,
no hippocampus in their small brains,
but she’d felt it, the thrill of success.

She spent decades looking for another race
she had a chance to win. None of her friends
could understand. Come dig in the sandy soil,
they said, but it wasn’t enough anymore.
She wished she’d never said yes to that race.
She wished she could race the hare again tonight.

She wished she could stop defining her life
by that one moment. Wished she could stop wishing
for any life beyond the life she had now,
sleeping in her burrow, cool and moist.
Wished all she wanted were soft weeds and long-leaf pines.
Wished she could hear that crowd just one more time.

published in ONE ART: A journal of poetry

Read Full Post »