Only a few more days left to NaPoWriMo2017. I have written twenty-eight poems to date, having decided to dedicate April to etching a poetry writing groove in my neural network. What I witnessed on the dog’s evening exercise was crying to be recorded.
Today’s prompt is to write about what might future archaeologist would make of our civilisation. And although there is nod to the topic, I went off on a tangent, as is my wont. So this is sort of antidote to paleology.
Without Object
I did not lift my smartphone
capturing that twilit glimpse –
a cygnet pair honking
their elation. First flight:
wings’ strength, sinew testing
their new form, span and rhythm.
Flap and landing plunge. Then glide
across lough towards sunset.
If in future time they crack
the code of ancient silicon,
chip away all the data,
construct story around all
the photos, diary notes-
“Dentist, 3pm, Tony” –
excavating this midden
of the digital era,
what meaning will overlay
the absence of a record?
This maiden flight of two swans
still wearing sooty plumage:
sunset, shoreline, springtime, soul,
the sound of their wild joy.
The old dog’s response to their
call. Their lunge at lough water.
Moment without artefact.
Without object, what story?
Bee, oh me oh my: an outstanding poem, even for thee. This one brought hardened ol’ me to tears, and I know the spirit of Mary Oliver as well as the other great nature-poets’ shades are bowing to you for your capture of this moment of aware Being. The way your words broaden and deepen the initial image-focus is breath-taking in the most life-affirming way. It’s ALL here in your words. Resonance that lasts … ~ kwp
My goodness, being mentioned in the same paragraph as the venerated Mary Oliver! Thank you so much for the compliment. And it didn’t get born easily either, this poem.
Those labour pangs so worth their trouble! The other aspect worth noting is that your poetic voice is unique … at its best, as here, it’s quite distinctive. So there!
My goodness we should bottle and market you Canadian sparkling poetry cheerleaders!
You’re welcome to try that, Poet Bee, tho’ I doubt I’d fit into any known bottle — and ‘twould have to be labelled “Known to Be Particular”!