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Tumbleweed (plaintext version)
by Glenn CurrierSome were surprised
by the yellow life
sprung from your rugged aspect,
fooled by the honor of gray
in that opaline scene.
Wafted from the plains of your pain
and the monuments of your life,
crossing open range,
your language is sand-skrit
on the floor of our desert.
You fellow traveler,
you furnace of wisdom,
the twists of your intellect,
as sure as a divine lantern,
lead us past our fear and comfort
to a new adventure.
The wispy lightness
of your humor gusts
across our blue gravity
leaving our sadness
in the sand.
Your craft an invention
made to tumble
with the winds of Mars,
roams more distant planets
in search of words and worlds
to fill the moments
of our space.
Ignoring the barbed wire
we string across our world,
you snag and churn our minds
transforming our entropy.
Sometimes we wonder
how you got here.
What route or path
led you to plant yourself
in the convolutions
and walls of our worlds?
What Spirit inhabits
the cells of this unlikely brush
on the grains of our days?
We remain curious and full of questions,
about this unlikely survivor,
but smiling, humble, and grateful,
we bow to your tenacious soul.
Dedicated to Charlie Morgan, poet, novelist, writer, humorist, thinker, husband, father, and friend.
02/16/2005 Posted on 02/17/2005
Copyright © 2024 Glenn Currier
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Christina Bruno on 02/19/05 at 07:35 AM i agree, it is soft and smooth like a dance :) |
| Posted by Quentin S Clingerman on 02/20/05 at 01:42 AM Singular imagery, robust "applause" for the one you honor. |
| Posted by Jack Lanier on 02/24/05 at 06:41 PM Great work, Glenn. I think of Marshal Matt Dillon walking through Boot Hill at the beginning of the old episodes of "Gunsmoke" and also Gene Autry's memorable song which I still whistle from time to time, "Drifting Along With the Tumbling Tumbleweeds." :) Jack |
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