More poetry from Eric
Eric popped by my blog recently and commented on my use of his material. He offered additional material to contribute (Copyright Eric Odegaard, posted with permission):
Just Awakened
Water settles
into pools on the driveway:
glass beads in a broach.The idle sun drifts
from behind clouds,
its slanted light washinga plain row of rocks
garnished with wildflowers,
trickling through birch branches,making that haze, that murky, thick
yellow against the stucco of the house.
Magic collapses into majestyor low density dreams,
the ones we return to for security
or warmth, the way a baby needs swaddling.A return to the dense patchwork of skin,
skeins of yarn, the spun weight
of fibers or pores densely ladenwith the memory of touch.
I watch the way your nails curve,
mysteriously, over your fingers,the bright, halogen pink
of your skin against the white, fragile,
like a crocus stem, a sparrow’s wing.
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