THREE POEMS
CURIOUS AND RICH
When I walk past
the fragrant forest
after heavy rain,
which smells like
the freshest salad
you ever ate,
some vegetation
from Otherworld
that when eaten
makes you feel alive,
then I listen, listen
and there is
nothing, nothing but.
When it is almost dusk
and the horizon is tinged
with the most delicate
hint of lavender,
against it dark
silhouettes of tiny
fruit-tree branches,
I listen, listen
there is nothing, nothing but.
When I pass the small mountain
rising like a god
impressing the night
and the still liquid sky,
I listen, listen
and there is nothing, nothing.
But nothing is something
curious and rich,
and I have heard it.
©2017 Curious And Rich Linda Suddarth
mythopoetry.com
©2017 Curious And Rich
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
“Curious and Rich,” Featured poem for Parabola Online, Summer 2014
BORROWED FOREST, RENTED THICKET
My comfort falls on deaf ears.
Though you are only volunteers,
comical encroaching
forest with your odd smells:
sweet, tangy mid-spring,
hints of honeysuckle, cedar,
thyme, vinegar, rose, float,
don’t you know tomorrow
will be the back-hoe,
saws, bulldozers,
and your lovely thickets
will be undone?
Strange tiny flowers, like bells
and purple prehistoric shaped,
beside the poke berry
monster, decorated
with pieces of old fence.
You’re not sad?
Little birds, find other nests.
Yesterday when the crow
sat eating your young
on the telephone wire,
stolen from you,
and from the maple,
didn’t you see
that was a sign to scatter?
Yet you still sing,
sitting in the tree
that will be gone tomorrow.
The maple who has given
much shade and color
isn’t sad either. She
is giving me strength.
In my heart,
borrowed forest, rented thicket,
you are forever,
many and varied shades of green,
and ever joyous in your singing.
Someday I’ll put some money
down and buy some wild place:
let it be what it is.©2017 Borrowed Forest, Rented Thicket Linda Suddarth
mythopoetry.com
©2017 Borrowed Forest, Rented Thicket
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained
HAPPY OTHER PLACE
With every rain the woods
grow another foot,
on the breeze
rose and honeysuckle
faintly permeate
the corners of the sky.
In the far-seeing
of distance is
the blue of mountain
through the tree tops:
the mountain that looks
down on all of us.
I’ve been there,
these are the apple groves
up on top of the blue.
One fall we sat
under an apple tree,
spread a blanket
and ate apple pie,
while the bees
resembled angels
singing all in harmony.
People strolled in a daze
with apple nets
in their hands,
collecting the harvest
in this happy
other-place.
©2017 Happy Other Place Linda Suddarth
mythopoetry.com
©2017 Happy Other Place
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained
©2017 Happy Other Place Linda Suddarth
mythopoetry.com
©2017 Happy Other Place
Linda Suddarth All Rights Retained
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
First publication of the poem, HAPPY OTHER PLACE occurs April 15, 2017 on Linda's blog, LINDA WORD AND IMAGE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Linda Ann
Suddarth sees the creative life as a vital expression of the psyche. Linda has
been writing poetry and drawing/painting for more than thirty years. She has recently
published poems in Parabola, Silver Birch Press, Anima, and Red River Review.
Linda has a BFA in painting, an interdisciplinary MA in Aesthetic Studies, and
a PhD in Mythological Studies with an emphasis in Depth Psychology. She teaches
English, Art, and Humanities at the College level. Linda’s blog is www.lindawordandimage.blogspot.com, and she can be reached at linsudd
(at) aol (dot) com.
VISIT LINDA ON FACEBOOK AT
LINDA SUDDARTH POETRY AND ART
LINDA'S BLOG
LINDA WORD AND IMAGE
Posts
