wind
night falling but not yet
a glitter within trees
leaf lime to emerald to dark green
silence
within wind
wind
night falls
trees go to shadows and darkness
and then
a slew of boasting katydids
katy-did-katy-didn’t. katy-did-katy-didn’t.
the drum clicks of cicada
timbals and bone rolls within muscle
crickets
and large grasshoppers
sliding their long legs into snare drums
wind
the sky reddens
night ending
a stillness
a silence
everything settles into a breeze
| Copyright © 2021 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s volumes of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else and How Do We Create Love?, were published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018 & 2019, respectively. |
Michael, I shared this poem with some friends, who include Nortin M. Hadler, MD. You’ll enjoy his accolade:
ReplyDelete“A picture may be worth a thousand words, but a well-crafted poem is worth a well-crafted tome.
“I published one poem, as you may remember. It is not my comfort zone. You were kind enough to read it…over lunch…before I submitted it and even kinder to encourage me. I published it in the clinical ‘literature.’ But I had no confidence that my wordsmithing would translate to a poem, so it is the introduction to annotation in my turgid style. I have even published one short play, also in the clinical ‘literature.’ But, otherwise, I stay to my silo.”
Thank you for your most kind words.
ReplyDeleteVery nice. The playfulness, the language, the images, perfectly balanced.
ReplyDeleteAnother friend commented with a sort of “counter poem”:
ReplyDeleteVery nice.
A mid summer poem of insect noises.
To fortify the balmy wind.
Winter is quieter.
Cold with a low South sun breeze nipping the ears.
No insects mating abrasions to tweak the peace.
A few birds twittering as they scratch for seeds.
Squirrels in hiding.
Munching Fall's cache of acorns, dark and warm.
Dry leaves scuttling. Defying the last clean up.
Looking for a refuge from the irreverent North wind.
Snuggled against the house and pachysandra beds.
Along the frost broken driveway walls.
Waiting for snow.
—Neil Hoffmann
Thanks. Always happy when one of my works helps create another.
ReplyDeleteNice job, Neil.
Michael, you are definitely an inspiration for my feeble brain. Thank you.
DeleteNeil