Braids of Whiteness
by Leslie Ann Eisenberg
Author's Note: a few of merwin's words, rearranged in my mind. 12/17 updated and finally DONE!
between the brambles
of gnarled juniper,
a splintery nest is woven
by black ribboned wingS
of begotten prayers,
Silver needles from
dusty garments, and
Slivers of a ghostly oar
by a forgotten explorer
The immortal shuffling of
tongues and tracks lives
in the breast of
Posted on 11/30/2003
Copyright © 2023 Leslie Ann Eisenberg
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Trisha De Gracia on 11/30/03 at 07:13 AM|
I love the last stanza. This poem makes me want to write... the imagry is brilliant work. Well done :)
|Posted by Jean Mollett on 11/30/03 at 07:23 AM|
Braids Of Whiteness,
it's a good. I love boats, ships, etc. A forgotten past, old scency. Good work.
|Posted by Karl Waldbauer on 11/30/03 at 07:56 AM|
All I can say, Leslie, is your mind did an incredibly good job of rearranging! Simply excellent.
|Posted by H.M Stevens on 12/01/03 at 03:17 AM|
I love the passionate tongue here...The whispering images...slipping in and out of colors...the traditional form...it seems as if it just slips off your hand and onto the page...
|Posted by Kathleen Wilson on 11/14/06 at 09:18 PM|
For me, the amazing sight of the nest being built in front of our doorway in just such a gnarled pine swift flies to mind...and the immortal building of the nest, so private yet public too... an always event over and over richly woven of others pasts...on our case it was a hummingbird, here a mysterious black wing, but oh, the rustlings within, the immortal shuffling, and soon new wings take flight again. Beutifully conveyed, and gives breath to my memories and experience.