If it's Thursday, there must be poetry!
Finally, the poems are returning. I don't have much to say other that I started out writing one poem and then wrote something completely different--I love it when that happens! Still working out my pronoun issues; but still, this week's poem is a decent first draft.
Also, feel free to check out my Postcard Poetry Exchange project.
Out of the Blue
I don’t believe in suddenly. Nothing happens
all of the sudden, as if I couldn’t hear
thunder before lightning’s rip-crack
or feel a tree split in two.
There are ions that flow in opposite directions,
but that’s not us. That’s not our story.
We course between pulses of rain-drenched leaves.
We bow under buttressing branches
outstretched and wanting,
Listen to our low-shaded song.
For some, barely a shimmer of light
exists between them. They subsist on rock-gut,
on life left over. No place of origin.
No memory of the time before the blue faded,
when a sudden breeze carried
the electricity of surprise.