Rolled up and served up
well seasoned, handed over
there’s a sense of fulfillment
in a duty well done
The burning takes place
in an open field, after the rain comes
smoke sends signals to the senses
inner life, come to life
Whatever gets hung from these branches
the birds will peck at, in time
night rodents will investigate
it will keep the insects busy
I stood outside and waited for the shine
They told me it would happen
but it took a lot of patience
a lot of singing, in the interim
Afterward it was right to withdraw
everything curled back, exposing bones
The dry season blew in overnight
something had to break the rhythm
Once they had finished the weaving
the pattern was obvious
it told all the stories we needed
it insulated our legacy
In the end what remained was rich and sweet
a roasted harvest, fit for kings
doled out and shared among us
precious as a secret grown in the dark
Thanks to J.D. Harms for this Saturday Poetry Prompt, “The Fragmentary Prompt” — this one took me a while, including a first attempt with meter and rhyme that I promptly discarded. I asked my daughter for seven random words, and she gave me taco, fire, tree, star, shrivel, blanket, and chocolate; these stanzas are written to those words, in that order. I can’t say why I chose the photo that accompanies it, other than it just kinda leapt into my brain and also it’s a place that takes my breath away.
The Poetry Patio 