The AcresA Poem by Catherine DonavonThis is a series of four poems inspired by walks in a special nature preserve.
I.
A sea of black-eyed Susans beckons me. Wild oats catch at my sleeve as I walk by. They would save me from drowning in a wave of black and gold. I can think of no more lovely way to die. II. A single dark stain mars the white round of lace at the chin of My Lady Queen Anne. Is it a droplet of royal purple blood or a spotlet of black currant jam? III. don't let the butter fly too near the sun to soften in the heat and melt and run and leave a yellow stain upon the sky too near the sun don't let the butter fly IV. The woodchuck scurries up his holey hill And starts to see a stranger standing still Upon the path that passes near his gate. His red-brown coat reflects in summer's eye, A flash against the earth's own dull brown dye That makes the meadow-walker hesitate. Their eyes meet for a moment black to green. The woodchuck, more reluctant to be seen, At once retreats behind a knobby knoll. The lady (rather nosy) peeks around And spies a reddish flash against the ground As woodchuck hurries down his hilly hole. As brief a meeting as you're apt to find Delights the lonely meadow-walker's mind.
© 2019 Catherine DonavonReviews
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4 Reviews Added on July 12, 2019 Last Updated on July 12, 2019 AuthorCatherine DonavonSanta Fe, NMAboutI am a 71 year old woman currently living in Santa Fe, NM, but in the process of selling my home and hitting the road to live as a nomad. I am a singer/songwriter, actor, director, painter and writer... more..Writing
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