Tag Archives: poetry

have you heard the sound of the sun

Posted on November 26, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

the sun spins compositions the way stars shout across vacuum– electromagnetic spectra that resonate under matter we vibrate to like struck tuning forks but it is our substance the metal in our bones quiet bells sounding– the earth sighs, too & i … Continue reading →

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the christmas tree farm

Posted on November 25, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

forests have voices but these farmed needled trees arranged in priced rows can only whisper wildness learned through roots touched to roots what it means to be pine a memory quietly hummed & almost scented beneath the bite of snow & resin … Continue reading →

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be prepared

Posted on November 24, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

be prepared was what i learned in girl scouts but they never prepared me for anything besides making boondoggle & granny squares though mine were circles because i can never remember not to add a crucial turn of the hook … Continue reading →

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grist

Posted on November 23, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

tell me again how you are not grain to be ground down that already cracked these stones cannot mill you into anything finer & maybe outside reason i will love the whole into you again from all these fragments

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dinners

Posted on November 22, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

there have been so many holiday dinners starting at the children’s table mistaking whipped turnips for mashed potatoes & having to eat them all once they hit my plate smiling past my throat closing on that hated taste I like … Continue reading →

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Frost paintings (thanksgiving acrostic)

Posted on November 22, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

Thin-drawn frost paintings Hug my window this morning Angling condensation into Nautilus patterns, or ferns. Knowing physics is what Shapes patterns on this Glass, and how crystal forms independent of vision Innocent of the beauty it creates is no less … Continue reading →

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thanksgiving, 2012

Posted on November 21, 2012 by Susan L Daniels

i would rather embody grace than say it, hands folded neatly over these plates, shining my grandmother’s pattern & i remember her hands stroking napkins to smoothness on this table, teaching me the placement of plates & which forks to … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , , | 22 Comments