Thursday, November 20, 2014

Jennifer Lagier- 3 Poems & Photos

 
 
 
 
Miasma
 
Spent moon, ghostly spectral shadow, slides behind crested dune.
Her fiery opposite outlines cypress, cat-tail crusted pond.
 
Fog intercedes, cloaks once-blue skies, conceals sunrise.
Damp cobwebs glitter from greasewood, willows, tumbleweed.
 
Mist rises like warm delirium, tips time, tricks the eye.
Wetland miasma, crooning owls declare coming dusk.
 
Only hawks, circling in search of uncloistered squirrels,
dispel the clever cheat, disregard gold illusion.
 
Hazy horizon could clear, obstructions evaporate.
Morning hangs in the balance.
 
 
 
 
 
Rainstorming
 
Coconut palms applaud silver downpour.
Burst hibiscus litter a volcanic red trail.
A rainbow binds verdant jungle
to coral reef, light turquoise ocean.
Primary colors streak charcoal horizon.
 
I sip coffee, scribble at kitchen table,
watch Nene geese forage across wet lawn.
They bend and probe, seek tender morsels.
I pick through words, gather images,
capture the metaphor of this pregnant moment.
 
 
 
 
 
Overlook
 
Rain clouds simmer
across blue Sleeping Giant, disintegrate
above patchwork taro fields,
silver river, feathery palms.
 
Green undulates downhill
to pulsing, cerulean ocean.
Along muddy gully
descending to coral beach,
roosters chase mourning doves
into pink ginger.
 
I contemplate ragged Kalalea peak,
imagine fire gods whose burning hands
shaped this red island.
Their bones decompose under
blossoming mountain

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