tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post7128093908614524225..comments2024-02-24T11:28:02.310+00:00Comments on Poetry in Progress: Marion McCreadyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04657757253873577465noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post-37546318205427271312012-03-02T09:08:33.871+00:002012-03-02T09:08:33.871+00:00@James Owen
A beautiful description!@James Owen<br /><br />A beautiful description!An Honest Mannoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post-9897005977846330332012-02-20T14:10:54.874+00:002012-02-20T14:10:54.874+00:00ha! it's just after 2pm, it's raining and ...ha! it's just after 2pm, it's raining and has been since I got up at 6.30 this morning. there is nothing to see but rain, windows of rain, the window moving with rain, the shiny black road and the wind battering the fragile return of our tiny palm trees that were decimated by last year's snow. <br /><br />the sad thing is they're talking about preparing for water shortages in England this summer, I may have move down south...Marion McCreadyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04657757253873577465noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post-16464081912493621032012-02-20T13:13:35.759+00:002012-02-20T13:13:35.759+00:00it's eight a/m., the sun is up, there is a sta...it's eight a/m., the sun is up, there is a stand of three or four small birch with every twig sheathed in ice and glittering now, the snow in the yard is tracked and folded into a very complicated landscape, ice crystals shining on the flat or rounded surfaces and shadows inside the tracks a soft blue-black, the fence of red boards between the yard and the road casts a more solid, black shadowJames Owenshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07614935078978354375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post-54208883037781713052012-02-19T20:59:52.130+00:002012-02-19T20:59:52.130+00:00yes, perfectly formed :)
I wish I could see throu...yes, perfectly formed :)<br /><br />I wish I could see through your eyes right now, James :)Marion McCreadyhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04657757253873577465noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post-34669566841901425852012-02-16T16:58:21.021+00:002012-02-16T16:58:21.021+00:00i agree with dick
and i read again an earlier pos...i agree with dick<br /><br />and i read again an earlier post, the first lines that you leave behind when you remove the poems. and the ponge in the comments: "a rebarbative tangle of brambles"!!!!<br /><br />these fragments that you have shored up against your ruin -- what an evocative little poem they make ...<br /><br /><i><b>February</b><br /><br />the snow hill rises<br /><br />broken bones<br /><br />brambles</i><br /><br /><br />or, perhaps, taking a clue from roxana and ponge--<br /><br /><br /><i><b>February</b><br /><br />the snow hill rises<br /><br />broken bones<br /><br />a rebarbative tangle of brambles</i>James Owenshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07614935078978354375noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28238816.post-17566863200471634332012-02-16T09:07:51.256+00:002012-02-16T09:07:51.256+00:00Small but perfectly formed!Small but perfectly formed!Dickhttp://patteran.typepad.comnoreply@blogger.com