In Answer to a Startled Sun

 

We rise, apprised
of nothing.

We sip
sink
thirst
think,
and sigh
at clouds.

We carve our secret names
out loud on caves
and canvas,
steep our skin in freckled
fret. Then

that big hope-balloon-moon
breaches the horizon,
reminding us
we’re not home
yet.

 


It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse, and Mish has a great word for us today.
Come 
play! 

 

 

 

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18 Responses to In Answer to a Startled Sun

  1. Oh, your wordplay is just so sublime, as always. Joyful.

  2. msjadeli says:

    Your turn is appreciated, De.

  3. Marie Elena says:

    “Sublime” is not a word I often use, but Sarah started it … and I couldn’t agree more! WOW WOW WOW!

  4. Glenn A. Buttkus says:

    There is a loving energy, a robust rhythm in this piece. It sounds good read aloud too.

  5. Grace says:

    What a sight to see: big hope-balloon-moon.

    Good to see you De!

  6. I, of course, picture your days at Tahoe. Heard from a friend in your home town–be glad you’re not home yet!

  7. lynn__ says:

    Fabulous, De!!

  8. “that big hope-balloon-moon” I love this!

  9. kim881 says:

    I echo Sarah, sublime from title to end line, De. I love the variety of verbs and the internal rhyme of the first line. But oh, that ‘big hope-balloon-moon… reminding us we’re not home yet’!

  10. this poem flows with the elemental things you wove in here – freckled fret is so thought-provoking!

  11. robtkistner says:

    That’s a wonderful perspective on freckle-ness D. This made for a mysterious read. Where is the home referred to herein?

    • whimsygizmo says:

      For me? My Lake. The sea. Heaven.
      Different for everyone, I think.
      As I am just fresh back “home” (the Southern Nevada desert) from the place my soul lives (Tahoe), it can get a little confusing. 😉

  12. Frank Hubeny says:

    I like the use of “fret” and “yet” to tie the poem together.

  13. memadtwo says:

    on our way, though…(K)

  14. Lona Gynt says:

    Love it De…
    Home seems to elude us so often.
    It seems to always be just over the horizon. When I find it, I will be startled. Maybe it is too high a bar to set,
    Tapping my ruby heels
    There really actually truly might be no place anywhere like home,
    So Scrawl a name where you can
    In that popping freckled fret.

  15. Mish says:

    An intriguing title, first of all.
    There is a sense of calm in the end that only Miss Luna can bring. Beautiful.

  16. An enjoyable read. 🙂

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