Saturday, July 08, 2006

Dawn ~~ anna hood

When the earth's face is still marked
with sleep I'll come stealing the night
glazing crimson the Earnescliff Hills
blazing the marsh grass
at the mouth of the river.
At the pool
where the horse chestnut preens
under her flaming candelabra
of ivory blooms a heron wades
bows his head to me. Cows kneel
in my warmth. Along the tumbled down
fence morning glories
show me their throat and in yards
green as new peas
peonies relax their pink fists.
I wake the osprey the gull and the trout
shimmer the bay silver
stalk the shadows under the blue spruce
send the owl with her white breast
home on silent wings to her brood.
The field mouse offers up a naked child.

Crawl out of your tangled nest
of down - you were young once -
leave your aches and pains
your fallen arches, bleeding gums
your thick waisted body
and meet me in the meadow
when the cock crows.
Leave your undreamed dreams behind
your despairing thoughts your forgotten goals.
Kick that old hound to the foot
of your bed. Leave the sheep
streaming sleep walkers
to ply the Milky Way
and meet me.

I am a new day.


Blogger maglette said...

"...peonies relax their pink fists..."

Oooo, now that's a best one!

I just saw a batch of peony fists via TiVo - a late day, catching-up surprise. Yours was the better image.

Thank you!


8:26 PM  
Blogger jason evans said...

Anna, you've taken a theme approached many times by many writers and given it an amazingly fresh power and presence. The images you've chosen are wonderful. It's hard to pick favorites, but I especially liked chasing the shadows under the spruce and the mouse offering up its child.

I felt the morning mist. Thanks for that.

7:38 AM  
Blogger Dafath said...

this must be mary oliver

8:45 AM  
Blogger anna said...

thanks dear bear. I didn't know
that anyone could dislike Mary Oliver but the other day I read terrible disparaging remarks about her. And If I click on your
blog name it takes me there
to you! I must have bad taste
or they do - they didn't like her
or quite a few other famous poets as well. (sigh)

12:05 PM  
Blogger Louise said...

Dear Anna,
A poem about dawn! Difficult to write such a thing but you have done well.
Describing Dawn as crimson is accurate and clever but even more importantly places your concept of a new day with Homer's. In the Iliad and Odyssey he always marks a new day by saying "Then rosy-fingered dawn..." and goes on to say this or that.
I have not looked at dawn for years and perhaps when the other cats wake me at that moment I should rush out, climb the hill and look east.

7:16 PM  
Blogger anna said...

ah Louise Porter doesn't leave
her nest to see the dawn. This surprises me a bit. Mr Pink is up
numerous times in the night so
he can get his rest in the daytime.
He suggests looking.

11:18 AM  
Blogger Louise said...

Well maybe Louiuse Porter lies in bed staring at her claws extended all rosy-fingered and stops there on the classical allusion, that being enough for an old cat who can no longer skip up Mount Parnassus at 2 in the morning as she did 27 years ago. There was no sunrise sadly, only mist and more mist. What a classical drag.

8:33 PM  

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