
(Submitted to Fandango’s Daily prompt: mirror)

(Submitted to Fandango’s Daily prompt: mirror)
(Inspired by Steve Still Standing‘s  “An Exercise in Poetic Styles”)
Even the river bleeds –
fiery frigid essence –
earth’s watery voice.
***
It is the river
that calls, waters flowing
through my veins
and I am the banks
steadfast in my holding
the razor sharp edges
like liquid steel
eroding my earthen
postures, challenging
the hardened places.
To stroll amongst giants –
straight-backed arrows
whose green bows aim skyward –
a directional pull so uplifting
that earthly matters diminish –
this is contentment.
A shrill note
pierces night’s curtain –
an insistent, pestering alarm
Is it loneliness
that motivates the caller –
the need for a warm body
to calm her feathered fears
or a throaty hum to lull her?
Or is this an infant cry,
a hunger for nourishment
anxious in separation
waiting for mother’s
regurgitated assurances,
father’s watchful stance.
An onerous honk
breaks through
the high-pitched peep
and then, as
warmth wanes
a softer, sweeter
melody presents
followed by
a laughing trill
avian pleasure
prefacing night’s slumber.
Suggestion of blue
framed by barren, hopeful branches
underscored by coniferous tops
fronted by yellow-green optimism
and a floor of brilliant new growth
as filtered through metallic screen
and black-framed windowsill
focus interpreted by progressive
lenses of the one confined inside
perspective horizontal.
Spring willow
aspiring to yellow
wispy curtains
graceful queen
my heart bows
to your majesty.