Sand
shifts
this
brittle, black driftwood mood
out
to the inhaling sea
with
a booming, insulting sneer,
carrying
footprints of poems
I’ve
neglected to write in the sting-crash of time.
But
I won’t hear,
captivated
watching you,
my
favorite sanderlings,
prying
open shells, beaks gleaming,
etching
me poems,
wing
tips in the sand.
©
2017 Jennifer Wagner
for my sons
dVerse: Poetics “Gift” and OpenLinkNight
Watching nature just getting on with things is a balm for all the rest.
ReplyDeleteI like this poem very much, Jennifer, especially the lines:
ReplyDelete'carrying footprints of poems
I’ve neglected to write in the sting-crash of time' and
'my favorite sanderlings,
prying open shells, beaks gleaming,
etching me poems,
wing tips in the sand'.
"wing tips in the sand" is testament to poetry all around, and how blessed you are to sense it.
ReplyDeleteCarrying footprints of poems...
ReplyDeletebarefoot summer when it's best.
Ah, so many moments "lost in the sting/crash of time". Better spent watching "wingtips in the sand". Beautiful write!
ReplyDeleteLove how nature etches your poems,
ReplyDeletewing tips in the sand. Beauty of the inhaling sea ~
Lovely - you captured a moment most beautifully.
ReplyDelete"The inhaling sea" is very perfect
ReplyDeleteetching me poems,
ReplyDeletewing tips in the sand.
Gorgeous!!
A nicely written poem, well done.
ReplyDeleteSeeing the world.
ReplyDeleteOh yes, I felt the unwritten words etched into the sand. Splendid. xo Mother Wintermoon
ReplyDeleteMagically worded and nice come back to those waves. (but wait - aren't those shells gift of the sea)
ReplyDelete"...etching me poems, wing tips in the sand." Love the ending of your poem. Just wonderful!
ReplyDeleteA beautifully rendered - wonderfully worded - piece. I love the feeling of a 'pause' being taken to remind oneself of life's gifts.
ReplyDeleteThere have been poems written in sand for the wind to blow away - this nearly was one of them!
ReplyDeleteSo sorry, unexpected visitors last night have made me rather late in responding to your piece. But always enjoy coming here - always such a deliciously created sense of longing in your work.
ReplyDeleteLike everyone else, I'm caught by "footprints of poems". Very nice.
ReplyDeleteThis is excellent, Jennifer.
ReplyDeleteI especially like the opening two couplets and this line: "...I’ve neglected to write in the sting-crash of time"
A very beautiful poem....each line creates visual images...!
ReplyDeleteAngst is washed away and words flow with sight of favorite sanderlings...lovely poetry on their wingtips!
ReplyDeleteOh! This shifted so beautifully!
ReplyDeleteI love all the sounds, such as "Sand shifts this brittle, black driftwood mood." And I love the surprising shift to the beautiful last part. The perfect poems for a mother, I suspect: wing tips etched by her sanderlings.
ReplyDeleteFootprints of poems...I love this on so many levels.
ReplyDeleteI love how you capture little pieces of our life with your words, reading your poetry always makes me smile!
ReplyDeletesting-crash of time.
ReplyDeletedamn. wish I'd written this. ~
Beautiful 💕
ReplyDelete