Wednesday, February 13, 2019

One Morning




I cup the morning in my hands -
the sun rising on the back of the rooster’s blare,
the grass growing straight out to the barn
where a black cat explores the known world.

I hold the whispery sound of wings overhead
and the silly dither of earthbound hens.
Crow feathers slip through my fingers.
Wisps of chill air float free.

My hands hold the smells of wood smoke
and damp earth, of dried grasses
and fallen leaves. I bury my nose
and inhale the universe as it turns,

loosening summer, setting autumn free,
welcoming winter. All this is here
in my cupped hands, holding one morning,
holding them all.

8 comments:

Tabor said...

Truly sensual and beautiful.

Out on the prairie said...

Lovely thoughts to share, I like the stillness in the mornings when all your senses sense all about you.

Elizabeth Varadan, Author said...

I LOVE this poem. I feel write there in the early morning with you. Great sensory imagery. Certain lines just grab me: "the silly dither of earthbound hens" "wisps of chill air" "inhale the universe as it turns" "in my cupped hands, holding one morning". . . . But really I like all of it. Wonderful.

Elizabeth Varadan, Author said...

That should have been "I feel right there", not "write there" :-)

molly said...


Beautiful. I can smell it all through your words! I'm currently reading "A Sand County Almanac." His writing on nature is exquisite and reminds me of you.

Pauline said...

Thank you, Tabor :)

OOTP - I like to just sit and see what comes to mind when I look around...

Elizabeth - thanks for stopping by and for the compliments :)

Molly - It was such a beautiful morning, a Sunday writing morning with a friend, and her prompt was, write what you feel with all your senses.

Wisewebwoman said...

Oh this is beautiful. Reminded me of my last house, very last house. The smells and atmosphere.

Thank you.

XO
WWW

Pauline said...

Thanks WWW - I love where I live - near enough to town to walk (a mile) and secluded enough for privacy :)