[stylist] Morning Hour

[Jacqueline Williams]

Lynda,
This is a poem of mindful contrasts. From the starkly cold inside to the icy
outside and the life in both, the little bird outside, the blizzard of words
inside. So apt for finally making that blizzard achieve a higher purpose.
The transition in the last three lines caused a disconnect in me from the
present to historical time. It gives a different perspective to a wonderful
poem. A bouquet of words is a thought to remember.
 
Just an aside, I am glad I live in Arizona.  
Jackie 

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Lynda Lambert
Sent: Tuesday, January 01, 2013 9:05 AM
To: Writer's Division Mailing List
Subject: Re: [stylist] Morning Hour

Happy New Year.
I spent the first hours of the day writing this poem. I took a poem from
about 12 years ago and completely reworked it. I have attached it.

I will put it here in the text, but I am sure it won't read properly this
way.
Lynda

Morning Hour

 

            In the early morning hour

a nippy breeze

            wrapped  around my bare feet

            like  soft gray cashmere clouds.

 

                         

            My own reflection

            slowly materialized-

I was exposed, naked,

on a clear icy glass

            surface.

                        

                                    

            Outside the frozen windowpane,

            an icicle boundary

            surrounded my view

            of the aging Douglas Fir.

 

            

I turned for a closer look

            through the silent porthole

                         

            

            Quick movements

            in the shadow 

            revealed

            one tiny  ruffled bird,

            a solo performer 

            hunkered down, deep,

            on snow-clogged branches.

                        

             

            Inside this room, 

            a blizzard-

            a scattering of words still lingered-

            Waited  to be gathered,

            In a winter bouquet-

written on a page, 

            in spite of the bitter cold.

 

            We have been here 

for a thousand years

In the early morning hour.

 



Lynda Lambert, BFA, MA, MFA
104 River Road
Ellwood City, PA 16117

724 758 4979

My Blog:  http://www.walkingbyinnervision.blogspot.com
My Website:  http://lyndalambert.com