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Category Archives: Nature

January Almanac

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Ice sculptures form in the creek – Photo © 2017 by V. Nesdoly

January Almanac

Frosted black pavement
Slush hillocks turned ice, packed snow
Slippery when wet

Streetlights spot diamonds
Every street a booby-trap
of black ice

East outflow winds
Harsh, strong, glittering, long
freeze-drying Winter

Puffy Capsize coat
Icebreaker socks, Northside boots
my new best friends

© 2017 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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Winter has caught my attention. This year we’ve had particularly long cold spells with snow off and on since mid-December. Then mid-day the temperature warms to just above freezing and for a few hours the snow melts till the temps dip again. The pair of sturdy, warm hiking boots I bought way back in October is getting lots of use. No falls on the ice so far!

This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Keri at Keri Recommends.

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Posted by on January 12, 2017 in Haiku, Nature, Poetry Friday

 

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To Skin

Happy Thanksgiving to our American neighbors!

In my search for a poem of gratitude today, I came across “To Skin” (which I wrote some years ago but don’t believe I ever made public—at least not here). It reminds us of one thing we have to be grateful for which, though all around us, is easy to take for granted.

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Graphic from Pixabay.com

To Skin

Here’s to you
millimeter-thin layer cake
dermis, epidermis, hypodermis
dyed in the color of my race.

So tidily you enfold
crimson river of blood
yellow fat, pink muscle
grey bone, palette of reds—
burgundy liver to scarlet lung.

Body-sized organ of translucent turf
you possess an intelligence
that knows the difference
between lips and soles
lids and ears,
multi-tasks the switchboard
of smooth and rough, blazing and frigid
thrill and ouch, burn and itch.

Impervious to water
soft armor against malevolent
microbe and virus
yet vulnerable,
you blush
under sun and wind
bleed when cut
shrivel and distort when burned
swell, sweat, weep, toughen
discolor and scar.
Plump and smooth when new
you age into crepe, wrinkles, folds
jowls, doubles, triples and aprons
but still you blanket and protect.

So here’s to you
my lifetime-guaranteed
layer of cling-wrap,
boundary
and, till I reach eternity,
outline of my dust-to-dust
identity.

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

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PF-2This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Carol at Carols Corner.

 
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Posted by on November 24, 2016 in Nature, Objects, People, Poetry Friday

 

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Walking in the rain

When the glory of fall has passed, I still walk, often in the rain.

I have heard about how rain affects people in different locations differently; some are downright jubilant about its coming. I wonder if living in the soggy southwest of Canada (/ northwest of the U.S.) would dampen their enthusiasm.

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“mallard couples glide where yesterday / they waddled…” (Photo © 2016 by V. Nesdoly)

Walking in the rain

“… the rain … is pouring down, humming and tapping the floor. … It is getting fragrant. I am barefoot, dancing, jumping and running madly.” – Rizawa F. Syeda-Kazmi

Trees writhe, kowtow to squally air
rain beats tantrum gusts

races down roofline, puddles dance
the forecast—walk later, not now.

I leave between sobs
last tears damp and curl my hair.

Sky is soon weeping again
we are deluged in her woes

my hooded anorak
listens to the wet complaints.

Rain’s ally, the muddy Nicomekl
has claimed the flood plain

mallard couples glide where yesterday
they waddled through squishy grass.

I press on, blurry-eyed
needing wipers for my glasses.

Front steps glisten. Shake the misery
off leaden coat, hang it by the fire

and recall, incredulous
desert story of rain celebrations

where men drive to ditches, jump in
dance crazy, open-armed when sky drops water.

© 2013 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)
First published in Time of Singing – Volume 40 Intermezzo, Fall 2013

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PF-2This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by the one-and-only Jama, at Jama’s Alphabet Soup.

 
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Posted by on November 11, 2016 in Nature, Personal, Poetry Friday

 

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What is this light?

We have a beautiful paperbark maple in the back yard. It is one of the last trees to green up in spring and to redden in the fall. We see it from our kitchen window. When it is in full color, it’s almost as if  there is a glowing presence outside, looking in at us. It’s coming into its full beauty right now!

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What is this light

that window-watches
with a molten glance
all the burnt-orange shades
of lingering Autumn’s dance?

That stains the cool
November afternoon
with pear-gold burnished joy
and flapping goose’s tune?

In windy rain the flakes
of sunlight falling fast.
Drink in this wine
before fall bloom is past!

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All Rights Reserved)

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This poem is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Laura Salas at Writing the World for Kids.

 
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Posted by on November 3, 2016 in Nature, Poetry Friday

 

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Fall Collection

This is another poem inspired by a walk and the autumn leaves, which are particularly spectacular this year.

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Fall Collection

I’m collecting fashion pixels
leaves so stunning, dyed and pressed.
With this season’s stylish outfits
Autumn’s golden runways dressed.

Slender sleeves of limey yellow
ric rac trim of flaming blush
bouffant skirt of lacy sun rays
scarlet gloves with seams of buff.

Stand of trees is wearing scarlet
there’s rain-polished burgundy
trunk shows off a brooch of coral
vivid shawls of tangerine.

Crinkled, dappled, smooth and spotted
late October’s costume ball
though some dither—can’t decide:
Come as summer, or as fall?

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

PF-2This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Linda at her blog Teacher Dance.

 
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Posted by on October 27, 2016 in Nature, Poetry Friday

 

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Carrier Pigeon

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Carrier Pigeon

Bird Lady has tossed her breads.
Clay pigeons, come leave your beds
time to stuff stool pigeon heads!

Dockyard pigeons, homing too
from bridge girders and the zoo
Pigeon Forgers, drop by, do!

Pigeon-chested, pigeon-toed
pigeon-heated by the road…
full tums all—that is the goad.

© 2016 by Violet Nesdoly (All rights reserved)

Poetry Friday regulars will recognize the Jane Yolen-invented form of this ditty (a septercet: seven syllable lines, three lines to a stanza, any number of stanzas), my attempt to rise to this month’s challenge at Michelle Barnes blog Today’s Little Ditty.

(If you’re curious about what some of these pigeony figures of speech mean, check HERE.)

And now, I’m soon off to Bellingham and Poetry Camp! Hubby and I even did a reconnaissance trip a few weeks ago when I needed some software that was only available south of the border. On that outing we scouted the campus of WWU, so I even have my bearings (sort of).

See some of you this weekend!!

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PF-2This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted this week by Karen at Karen Edmisten: Mom. Writer. Consumer of Coffee (I like that last!).

 

 
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Posted by on September 29, 2016 in Form poems, Light, Nature

 

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Clematis’s kids

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I just love the post-blossom stage of clematis flowers. To me they look a lot like tousle-headed children.

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PF-2This post is linked to Poetry Friday, hosted today by Catherine at Reading to the Core.

 
16 Comments

Posted by on September 22, 2016 in Haiga, Haiku, Nature, Personal

 

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