March 28, 2008


This is the first draft of my workshop poem from the other day. We looked at David Morley's poetry on birds and then went out onto campus to write from life. I couldn't actually see any birds so I wrote about the songs coming from the trees instead. 


Empty trees pierce netted.

Lancing, pipping squeaks between the bark,

Stark mouse-screams whetting peace in the shrill fall

between horizons, escalations.

Dew tremors

Creep tones,



lemon sugar speaking not shouting

sharpening talking

tossing marbles of sounds

of warbles and seeds,


wobbling light

between shiverings


slow over the tips of the wood.

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  • Charlie! you filthy filthy girl! Still, all this is very amazing. well done :) didn't see you over e… by Adam on this entry
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