We anchor ourselves together
brace against the wind
swim the sunshine and cheat grasses
to the secret place
that grows the wildest flowers.
[they cannot see the city from their vantage
they know the white ghosts of flight against blue sky]
Up in the hills, a narrow valley,
between blistered and sun ravaged draws,
the thick scent of a green divide
in an undulating landscape of bone dry grasses;
a lush caesura in a tumult of bleached deer skeletons and well worn paths.
A tree erupts with the calling of young, hungry hawks too big for their nest.
Too young to fly.
The lupins fade to eye-shut tight white.
In my left hand a scepter of wild blooms.
In my right hand a message from the wind:
bow down, bown down, bow down
to the breeze.
I breathe the wild roses.
I cast myself into my senses.
I make merry melody with each
bend, swoop and snap of my hands
the bouquet is complete.
Wow! Your writing is incredible! Thanks for that!
pure, enchanting, absolutely lovely.
one word: Zine?
beautiful.
Yarrow, lupins, brown eyeed susans… there is more but I cannot quite make them out… I've always preferred the veritable indigenous bouquet to floral shop flowers… although any daisy of blossom is just fine with me… the inventory looks plentiful and plush indeed…
Enjoying the stars too☆
Wishing you the best in Montana, they we all adore you and your work that I am sure!
You wear the bouquet beautifully and MR plume wears the starry shorts handsomely. AND, I think your inventory for Montana is perfectly matched for the Western chicks who have no idea what pretty bird is flying their way.
Enjoy the show Dear Miss Plume!
xo
Heavens, one of these days I will slow down and edit my writing before I send it…
ah, well, you know what I am typing anywho
🙂
Wow! that was beautiful poetry, and of course your jewelry for Montana is lovely as always. What lucky people they are to see it, wish I was there!
Have a wonderful trip, and enjoy your show, you will be Fantastic! 🙂
I can only imagine what it would be like to have you're ability to mold and form the English language into the gorgeous poetry pottery I've ever laid eardrums on.
Fabuloustastic.
PS Roberoo's shorts are spectacular.
Rob's shorts. They remind me of summers spent with you guys out on the water.
you best print and frame that picture of you right now to fortify thyself this summer. i just might do so for my ownself. it's really wonderful.
These words (the true silversong) and that firm hand hold (belonging to a very good man indeed) give me so much happiness for you.
This life is good my friend. And I love how often you reminded me.
Have a great time this weekend!
Am hoping your next show is in Cody ~ that's about as far afield as I can get between milkings!
Ha.
xo S.
dearest plume, thank you for these beautiful lines; they brought me great joy as I read and re-read.
we are taking a little motorcycle trip to Missoula this weekend! am I a lucky bird or what? I got out of teaching at the massage school and yayyayayay we decided to take a short trip to Montana! whoohoooo. the mademoiselle plume will meet the mademoiselle taddyporter(if I can get around the gaggle of shoppers getting the goods, you will be busy!) take care sweet thing and bring a sweater, it is supposed to be cloudy!!
Love this post. Very settling. Bless you.
Thanks for all the good-lucks lady friends! See you on Monday!
XO
Beautiful poem….As a Welshman married to a native Texan, I find the imagery of this poem so evocative. It reminds me very much of the style of the late, great Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas,(if you have not read his works,you should!) Fantastic…well done.