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Hurling crescent-shaped divets,
running to the beach,
her heart pounds in anticipation
to what has washed
ashore from the
herring run.
She has arrived at the
acceptance of transformation,
what remains of her childhood
valley, the meadowlands
filled and flattened, largely
demolished by quarry machinery,
converted into gravel roadbeds.
Rediscovering her homegrounds,
she races across this meadow,
hurling past the mall and
chemical plant warehouse,
making an illegal U-turn,
sending a tailwind to a
flight of swallows whipping
past, delirious with the
pungent scent of
what has washed
ashore from the
herring run.
Copyright 2006 Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist, brainchild of Sage Sweetwater Creative Properties, flagship of Stone Creek Woman
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Bobbi
No one can do poetry like you; you are truly a force to be reckoned with! Excellent stuff; brava!
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
LOVE the pic; too cool! :D
Has a very heady scent of unbridled freedom and delight to this exhilirating and electric write Sage
You describe the rites of passage of the writer and the reader in a tongue twisting and alluring way, yes..a heady concoction, coupled with the anticipatory thrill of what tomorrow will bring to us, with the vast sea of possibilities and opportunities, stretching out before us master alchemist !
Keep transmuting metal into gold, dross into jewels !
Peter