Featureless

[LynnDoiron]

The valley quail has fed the owl
and flecks red spots into a round mandala on
snow-bright squares of ground where grass roots
thatch the roof of worms’ worlds and sundered
wings turn into mulch through seasons.
They hunt and hunt.
From under and inside this man-construct, I hear
the snap and fold of feathers blinding stars
that could be suns for other planet runs or
dust remains of was. The slap and snap is like a sheet
four-cornered and cotton, a prisoner of clothes pins
on a line, the whip-master is wind. Not speckled
down, not gold-soft pale. Not kind. This beak
of random meanness – no. Not so. Nor
unfair, nor grisly by intent the taloned aim
and take of targets nearing dark. Sleep paints
them alive, six-feathered crests wobbling through
the chase, my own face, featureless and wide
above their circling eights across the ribcage
of a deer, someone’s roadkill, some other’s destiny
to stopper off the breath, the scents
of cottage roses on my gate, and vines climbed
through the jaw.


[after Tess Gallagher’s Fathomless, from Moon Crossing Bridge]

[Ron Wallace (Scotshawk)]

How am I supposed to make an objective read out of this. It swallowed me whole right off the bat. Give me ten or more reads. Right now I just keep thinking, "Damn, that's just so good." Ron

[wavemaker9 (Rick D.)]

"Damn" was the involuntary exclamation mumbled through my dropped jaw. Lynn, I was helpless game in this flight. What a ride!

Rick

[LynnDoiron]

Well ... damn.

thanks guys.

[Tina (Firefly)]

Double Damn! (Always have to be the most dramatic, don't I?) Seriously, Lynn.. this is simply brilliant. You know how I love anything about birds- they always evoke such sorrow to me- and certainly this piece brings out that undertone. There are so many fantastic lines:

"dust remains of was," "the whip-master is wind," "sleep paints them alive," and so many more.

Amazing, my friend. Love, Tina

[LeoVictorBriones (poetremains)]

Powerful tone and superior use of diction. This is certainly words to canvas. I do think the line breaks and stanza constructs need some real work. I was totally lost on the first read and then only on the third read did I begin to find a pace that made me feel comfortable. For instance if you read the following lines as written:

where grass roots
thatch the roof of worms’ worlds and sundered
wings turn into mulch through seasons.
They hunt and hunt.
From under and inside this man-construct,

you would think the birds hunt from under a man construct...

obviously, that was not your intent... so some real work needed there...

that does not take away from the power and skill of the write though.

Great stuff.

Thanks

[pelos]

My first run through was strumbling - even with your punctuation I did not
know when to stop and breath - I agree with Leo that more line breaks
are desperatly needed though I don't agree as to where they should go.
My suggestions are along these lines:

The valley quail
has fed the cannibal owl
and flecks
red spots into a round mandala
on snow-bright squares of ground
where grass roots thatch
the roof of worms’ worlds
and sundered wings
turn into mulch through seasons.
They hunt and hunt
from under and inside
this man-construct, I hear
the snap and fold of feathers blinding stars
that could be suns
for other planet runs
or dust remains of was.
The slap and snap is like a sheet etc,

but ya know as I read it a few more times maybe the reader isn't suppose to breath
yeh? I felt the intensity of the kill, smelled the road kill and then realized the simplicity
of it all ex: grass roots
thatch the roof of worms’ worlds and sundered
wings turn into mulch through seasons.

the scents
of cottage roses on my gate, and vines climbed
through the jaw.

Great read Lynn - me thinks though that "to stopper off breath" could be reworked
feels flimsy compared to the way the rest reads - and me also thinks if you take the
period off the line "hunt . . " it will take away the confusion of what you are trying to
convey. Love the poem Lynn, really I does. Pelos