Monday, April 11, 2011

Monday Poems: "Root" - Cedar Brant

A low cloud of grackles
a ruin of laundry
horses stand still in the field.
I plant seeds like ash
dark beds full
of the roots of weeds.

Dropping in
furrows my fingers pulled
the grass already growing around me
in desperation.
The giant willow
laid out
in the last shudder of wind.

There is a bird box without swallows
a bed without peas
a small tree thinking about its buds.
Spring itself
knowing it will soon die back again
so afraid of winter
it has no courage to bloom

to carry the weight of itself through that lolling
fruiting season.

you innocent and penetrating
grower between split and crack
building a temple of cells
grains like trust settle into your toe roots
telling them - this is the right way to grow -

*     *     *     *     *
Cedar Brant is a poet, writer, and biologist. Her poetry and essays have appeared in Camas, and Poems Across the Big Sky. She's also a member of Bentgrass, a troupe that tours Montana performing poetry and music, and hosting writing workshops. "Root" was published in Brant's 2010 collection Like Any Other Dream Will Do.

1 comment:

  1. I turned dirt in a new garden bed yesterday but my thoughts were not this sublime. Trust, not hope, is how I think of the coming of spring.