A Little Sugar
by J. Donald Coonrod
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Rated "G" by the Author.
Print Save Become a Fan
Recent poems by J. Donald Coonrod
In the Bleb of Heaney's Icicle
Straws in the Wind
Zephyers and Blasts
Great Island Earth
>> View all 55
Ever feel depleted, somehow burned out--out of season, sort of longing to join nature, become something else. That's how I felt writing this poem. Published by Coffee Press Journal, January/February issue, 2008, publica-tion rights to the author.
Traveling down a road—
a bare black lattice appears—
trees with just a hint of green,
a little sugar flowing in them
on a cold early Spring morning.
I see their dark branches
and think of Hitchcock’s, "The Birds,"
but I’m safe.
Branches don’t fly
and there’s a pale sun coming up,
colored yellow enamel of an old refrigerator.
I don’t feel dread or sense impending doom—
I love this paleness,
the marginal soul of greenwood faltering,
its uncertain destiny in ambiguous nature—
all those diminished buds
and frozen flowers of early Spring.
In my world like theirs, a little sugar is enough.