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Little Willow [userpic]

Poetry Friday: Foundling by Megan Levad

December 29th, 2017 (06:00 am)

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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Posted by: Michelle Kogan (Michelle Kogan)
Posted at: December 30th, 2017 10:44 pm (UTC)

Lovely, learning about the beginning, and Nature, while starting a New Year! A grand idea and poem, thanks. And I didn't know that loess, was loess, I knew of it but not by it's name or how to pronounce it.

Happy New Year!

Posted by: Little Willow (slayground)
Posted at: December 30th, 2017 10:46 pm (UTC)

Here's to a new year, a new hope, a new appreciation for nature, life, and words, words, words!

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