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Little Willow [userpic]

Poetry Friday: Foundling by Megan Levad

December 29th, 2017 (06:00 am)
awake

Current Mood: awake
Current Song: My Favorite Wife score music

Before the earliest flute
was carved from a vulture’s wing,

before we - what few we were -
bowed to the moon,

the balmy, secular night,
you were coming.

Snug in the great throat of a glacier.
Still as a wish, until its sighing end.

I like to think you waited years
for us, one shoulder greening in the damp,

the other burnished by long leaves
of wheat, before we called it wheat.

Or was it loess, the wind's fine veil,
polished you so bright we would know you at first sight?

- selected lines from Foundling by Megan Levad

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Comments

Posted by: Kay McGriff (kaymcgriff)
Posted at: December 29th, 2017 06:38 pm (UTC)
Happy New Year

Beautiful poem for the end of the year. I like to think of things waiting for us to discover.

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: December 29th, 2017 06:42 pm (UTC)
Re: Happy New Year

Me too. Patiently, knowingly.

Happy new year!

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