Evensong

17 Replies

 

Evensong

The mare lifts her head,
Her edges framed by sunlight
as, with a wounding grace,
her colt strips leaves from branches tender
as his own lithe legs
tangled in new willow.

Clouds form a new volcano behind the mountains.
Beer bottles stick, almost buried, from scabbed truck ruts feet deep. 
A man with his mewling cow on a rope
follows long plaintive cries
in the direction of her almost-grown calves.

In the immense spreading Grandmother of trees,
the egrets open their back feathers
like bottlebrush blooms,
and fan after fan, They stroke the air.
White against the vivid green leaves.

 

 

For the dVerse Poets prompt.
See how other poets responded to the prompt HERE

17 thoughts on “Evensong”

    2. lifelessons's avatarlifelessons Post author

      Actually, your comment made me go back and read the poem and I found an error in the last stanza!If you were to rereread it, it might now make more sense. Thanks for bringing my attention not to the error but to the poem–which led to finding the error.

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