Poetry on My Mind

72 this morning, rain and storms all day. Humid as can be.

It is hard to believe that another week has passed that I have not posted. Where have I been? Well, pretty much right here at home, although I have been out to town more than I'd like, still playing catch-up after being away for a week. I have not yet even gotten into my flowerbeds, but as soon as the rains let up that will be first on the to-do list.

Rain. We have had rather a lot of it, beginning with a stupendous storm Saturday morning that blocked our view of the ridge, with rain blowing sideways in sheets and the most phenomenal lightning. The rest of the day was lovely, as was Sunday and Monday. But yesterday and today we're back into downpours, thunder, and high humidity. It's July, all right.

I have been working on poetry, believe it or not. I finally submitted my 6 poems for the chapbook of poems from our camp group, and I'm pretty satisfied with them. We shall see if the rest of the group agrees. It was really rather nice to do this little project, although it turned into a major one for me. Why? Because I did not organize my poems like the rest of the group apparently did. Mine were scattered all over the place, in notebooks, journals, on the computer, in piles of paper. Geez, you'd think a librarian would do better than that. So I sorted ALL the paper I had stashed here, there, and everywhere. It was a lot. An almost overwhelming lot, because many notebooks had a poem or two in them, and that was all. There were new notebooks too, and new folders, left over and never used from various workshops I've led over the years. I bet there were 50 or more spiral notebooks alone. 

So, instead of jumping right into the poems, I had to sort all that mess out. One big box has gone to the church thrift and another will go this week. It feels good to get down to what is actually my writing. It's still not organized; there are duplicates everywhere and no order to any of it, but it's a start. And I have two lovely journals, never used, that I will be using for new writing.

And since I'm discussing poems, here are two I unearthed that have never seen the light of day since being written. I wrote these at camp, when I was out wandering along the Greenbrier rail trail.

Intruder

October, 2021

Fog hangs low over the Greenbrier;

An eagle slides, noiseless, above

Brown water, green-gold trees.

The current sweeps ghost-like

Through waving grass. A blue heron

Stands, still as a sculpture, silent grace.

My footsteps echo on the gravel path, loud

As a tall oak crashing.

I try to find quieter places for my feet,

Crunch dry leaves instead.

Natural Order

Redtail hawk circles high,

Riding thermals above the rocky cliffs;

Below, rabbits and mice huddle

Under tussock and brush,

Small, earthbound,

Watching shadows glide 

Quiet and deadly.

The eagle follows the river,

His eyes on shadows too;

In the water trout and minnows dart

Under rocks and low overhanging branches,

Lie still. They cannot see

The eagle but know

He is there, sharp beak and claws,

Ready to take what he will.

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Here's a picture of the camp I stay at, taken by a friend. 

This is an old railroad sections boss's house, built around 1900. Can you see the board leaning against the side? It's marked with numbers indicating the water level of various floods. The camp has not flooded in the 15 years I've been going there, but 2016 was a little worrisome. It's all alone, situated just off the rail trail, and there are 2 swings on the porch. It's rough, but perfect in its way.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.