Friday, October 21, 2016

New Poem

New poem:

Real Time
By: Jill Koenigsdorf

The first rains
make diary
of the path.
The smudged, deep-clawed print
of Coyote giving
chase.
The precise punctures
of walking stick-
& crisscross hieroglyphs
of birds.
I measure time by birds-
First, the singing, then
what they carry.
Nesting materials:
horse hair for sturdiness,
dryer lint for comfort
Later,
the job of nourishing,
bugs, worm, a dozen times an hour.
The larger birds assess the two fatalities below-
Raccoons.
How did they die in tandem? Almost
touching?
I measure time by their transformation
The elements loosening
a tail, a paw
A scapula rests in the culvert
like an ivory moth.
Until one evening, they are only bones-
teeth so bright
in grin or grimace
under that mushroom moon,
Edgeless &
exploding spores.

New Poem

New poem:

Real Time
By: Jill Koenigsdorf

The first rains
make diary
of the path.
The smudged, deep-clawed print
of Coyote giving
chase.
The precise punctures
of walking stick-
& crisscross hieroglyphs
of birds.
I measure time by birds-
First, the singing, then
what they carry.
Nesting materials:
horse hair for sturdiness,
dryer lint for comfort
Later,
the job of nourishing,
bugs, worm, a dozen times an hour.
The larger birds assess the two fatalities below-
Raccoons.
How did they die in tandem? Almost
touching?
I measure time by their transformation
The elements loosening
a tail, a paw
A scapula rests in the culvert
like an ivory moth.
Until one evening, they are only bones-
teeth so bright
in grin or grimace
under that mushroom moon,
Edgeless &
exploding spores.