[Stylist] Tumbleweed
Jacobson, Shawn D
Shawn.D.Jacobson at hud.gov
Mon Feb 11 17:00:18 UTC 2019
Thanks Jackie; I will keep this in mind when sending future poetry.
Shawn
-----Original Message-----
From: Stylist <stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org> On Behalf Of Jackie via Stylist
Sent: Monday, February 11, 2019 11:51 AM
To: 'Writers' Division Mailing List' <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Cc: Jackie <jackieleepoet at cox.net>
Subject: Re: [Stylist] Tumbleweed
Shawn,
I agree with Lynda's comments whole-heartedly.
The line breaks and line length bothered, but I credit that to the format changing when you did not make it an attachment.
Understandable as many have trouble opening certain attachments.
I do not know the solution to this, and I wish, if someone does, they would share it.
Good writing.
Jacqueline Williams
Clarity is just questioning having eaten its fill.
Jenny Xie
-----Original Message-----
From: Stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Jacobson, Shawn D via Stylist
Sent: Monday, February 11, 2019 6:27 AM
To: Writers' Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Cc: Jacobson, Shawn D <Shawn.D.Jacobson at hud.gov>
Subject: [Stylist] Tumbleweed
Dear Stylelist
Below is a poem that I wrote for Myrna's poetry reading circle. I am sharing with the list by request. Please read and enjoy. If you have any comments/criticisms, please share.
Shawn
Tumbleweed
by Shawn Jacobson
Borne upon the wind
the flying bushes of the plains
sail across the road.
Heading out from Pueblo going east,
we leave the mountain's grandeur in our wake, and enter upon plains with flat expanse, capacious vast unbounded and so free.
A wind arises from the howling north,
a sky of cloudless blue turns dusty brown.
I hear the keening in the chilly air
a storm is calling through the empty land.
And then I see a sight unique with wonder a drove of plants the size of steers arrives sailing across the emptiness around us, flying over unencumbered land.
We flinch as these weeds cross the road ahead collisions can not be avoided now.
They slam the car with slapping thudding sound breaking themselves on our metallic helm.
Through prairie towns our tumble weeded way does take us in our eastward journey home La Junta, Lamar, Garden and Dodge cities, and smaller towns swallowed by emptiness.
In time we'll leave this empty widespread realm and eastward find familiar fenced-in land of cities reaching skyward in their might and bid nature around it mind her place.
But memory of this forgotten space
will linger as we contemplate the sight
of dusty skies that tell of distant storms and plants that sail the prairies empty, wide.
Over unfenced land
these flying plants travel free
across memory.
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