teslin by Christina Butcherwe sleep in
breathe out
push back
the ashes of
the fallen
ones
the tallest, once
how they slipped
across the creeks
of your sky
brittle
they caught
like tinder
and we watched
their leaves
curl
branches bent
against the weight
of the fire
that year
the flames crept in
like wolves:
tongues lolling
and quiet,
mouths hanging
in anticipation.
the birch trees
blackened, then
and we watched
their bark
peel back
until
they became ghosts
smoke wraiths
clothed in pitch
with no roots
and no voice
only spaces
where before
hung
ornaments
of our lives
that summer
the soil bled for them
grandmother
the sun burned for them
it sang
potlatch songs
and
carved
their faces in
the banks
by the road
now
let the winter come
and
we’ll drift
back down
to sleep
08/31/2009 Posted on 08/31/2009 Copyright © 2025 Christina Butcher
Member Comments on this Poem |
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 08/31/09 at 04:06 PM ...agree with Bass, your style is supurb, i like the flow of this and the story-line. |
Posted by Angela Nuzzo on 11/02/09 at 08:48 AM This is just beautiful, Christina. It has an American Indian feel to it. I had to look up the title :) and I found the news article about the bad fires in that town in August. A very personal view of what nature can do. Nice job! |
Posted by Tony Whitaker on 11/02/09 at 09:46 AM Welcome to Pathetic with this most interesting paced piece of enchantment! |
Posted by Tony Whitaker on 11/02/09 at 09:51 AM And I forgot to mention congratulations for POTD!!! |
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/02/09 at 03:28 PM I can't believe I missed this one. It is stunning. I am caught up and carried firmly along by each word. It is elemental and in a wild (in the natural sense) place. Thank you! |
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