Colorado's plains, eastern Colorado, are quite different from the mountainous west. This is a tale about the plains, about a child, about ...........
Plain Song
In the treeless fields,
tumbleweeds,
round brown skeletons,
rip across the road
faster than cats or rabbits.
We don't hit them.
They flash like skinned
umbrellas
across the pavement
dividing parched plains.
Desolation slakes us.
The child is fascinated
by glinting remains
of elk, sheep, cow
she coveted them
collected them
brought some home
to show off
the wind blows through them
out in the country
all night, all day,
making of the bones
wind instruments
making of mortality
a music.
Copyright Julianza K. Shavin 2008
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Reviews of "Plain Song"
Reviewed by Flying Fox Ted L Glines (Reader)
Reviewed on December 16, 2008
You have truly caught the essence of the plains with this one and I love the arid musty feel of death in it. BTW - congrats on publishing "Scrabble" :-)
Such beauty in desolation. This, Julie, is maybe the best-written
of your poems I have read. At least, it's my kind of writing.
Love the last 2 lines: making of mortality / a music. -gene.
P.S. I echo Karla's fine review.
The plains, the tumbleweed (skeltons), the bones come to life before the fortunate one who reads these lines - a write about death has never been so beautiful. Well done.
A people’s heart can be found in their poetic words. In history men and women have stood firmly upon their soapboxes and street corners, rallying the deepest beliefs of people to rise up and be heard. The poetrypages.com has offered that voice a new
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
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Ted
Be always safe,
Karen
"... making of mortality
a music."
elegant, economical writing
good use of visuals
good wright
john+
of your poems I have read. At least, it's my kind of writing.
Love the last 2 lines: making of mortality / a music. -gene.
P.S. I echo Karla's fine review.
Edwin
The plains, the tumbleweed (skeltons), the bones come to life before the fortunate one who reads these lines - a write about death has never been so beautiful. Well done.
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.