Ode to Moss



She listens to birds begin to chirp

as the same fierce sun rises red again

and feels serene hushes and blushes.

She visits a deserted park to rest

and sprawl in grass as soft as moss.

A squirrel scurries from off an oak,

stands upright on its friendly paws,

twitches and flicks its fluffy tail,

and cradles acorns for nibbling feast.


Author's Notes/Comments: 


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Starward's picture

In this poem, you join your

In this poem, you join your work to the ancient bucolic tradition which is at least 2500 or so years old; and, like its most successful practioners, Theocritus and Vergil (with Milton's "Lycidas" close behind them), you have appropriated images from nature, but deployed them with a bit of subtle terror---which you disclose in the first two lines; so that the remainder of the poem becomes an offset of the woman's ability to torment the person to whom the poem is addressed.  In this very brief poem, you have brought four characters into its scenery:  the speaker, the person to whom the speaker addresses the words, the woman, and Nature itself.  Compression is always a sign of classic talent; but I need no signs to prove what I already know---that you have a talent of enormous proportions, and that you are expanding the reach of postpoems by deploying it here.


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