Monday's Ramble

So much is going on lately that my brain is just exhausted and I can't think of what to blog about, but rather than leave you with nothing I decided to post another poem and only hope it will satisfy until tomorrow.


Home

Monochrome mountains stand tall and proud
encircling this valley of mine
while their children litter the fields
and the yard
where I plant seeds of grass
and rows of peas
and they,
not so gracious as their guardian fathers,
nibble at my garden and twist my carrots
to grow sideways instead of down.
Most days I know not whether I shall harvest potatoes
or infant mountains masquerading as stone.
Still--I love my rocky home,
with spritely sunflowers and prickly burrs
that whisper against little boys' shoes
and gather in pantlegs to come in from the heat.
There is safety in this frozen desert,
joy in this simple life of seasons and stone
with granite majesty guarding the seeds of my life
and memories of home.

Saturday's Poet: Earth Eater

The great, red dragon bursts to life.
The growl thrums deep from engine throat
while clouds of smoke
billow and whirl about his snout.
He raises his great snake neck,
head swaying as he searches for prey,
then dives to the earth
and devours great chunks of her flesh.
Earth Eater he becomes
as time after time
he dips his head to feed,
a pile of refuse building beside him.
And as the sun begins to set,
the great red dragon
lifts his head
and pauses.
The smoke stops,
the growling ends,
man drops from dragon's back,
removes his hard yellow hat and wipes his brow-
and leaves the dragon
with nose perched in the air
waiting for another sunrise
in which to feed on Mother Earth.

Karen E. Hoover
September 27, 2003