that great tribe

gratitude for the profusion

of necessary momentary fragments

whose small composites find strength in union

to take lazy possession of the soil

wafted washed dropped or flung

as the quickening of ovules

downward, with heavy rains

from the overhanging bank, flood

the only inducement offered

from the dissolving rain is respite

for these less than weary travelers
in the sweet red-scented sublime clay

Lucy Meskill

warm boot

Mercury spins up

to the music of the hum

I pray for every vessel

that will continue to hold water

and for every vessel

that will not

I stand

before the screened window

the wind parted curtains belly out

to release last night's swelter

I tether what is useful

to my heart, mind and soul

and let the cool wind bear the rest away...

Lucy Meskill

morass

the meat was tough

the table was dirty

the server was hard

the cook was angry

the roadway was packed

the people were rushed

the day was too long

the night was too short

and somewhere a lamb bleats

a music as soft as silk for its mother

sensing the inevitable wave

lucy meskill

wasp

he fell
           where he was landing

as one leg flew off
clutched

in the bright yellow beak of a starling



lucy meskill

photo credit: Des Cannon

nipple

the moon is weaning fireflies

gently in the dark of night—

the day pulses in and out

breath like a cooling iron

graveolent of everything

it wilted and steamed flat today

beneath the withering stare

of august's glaring sun—

glimmering like diamonds

they drop eggs and rise...

lucy meskill

babydoll

sounding new like you

is not my style

situated in opposite attitudes

upon the same shelf

my paint is worn

turn me over and back again

like water spiraling noisily

along a battered downspout

or a sheep with a cold

I release a muffled waaa

far beyond the comforting reach

of mother's fleshy arms

lucy meskill

event horizon

I grieve over

our affinity

I grieve over

our conjoinedness

I grieve over

the knowledge of you

like radioactive material

slowly melting down

to the very center

of the world

lucy meskill

firebox anatomy

not squelched by faith

this darkling flame

and glistening floss 

where amber marries red

as smudge and char

their ort children rise

upward through the flue

to mask the moon

the scent of space

that like and likening

of gray body ascension

which bears all soot to wind

as piceous carbon undulates

like dense black lace buoyant

above the chinks in windows

where vital breath transpires

lucy meskill

network...

the nations
of my nerves
rejoice
all of their states
and capitols
resound
in this slipstream
in this joyous
and terrible
bundle of hours
that build
to formulate
the living day...


lucy meskill

hedgerow...

the mightiest of woodlands
rise slowly by the grace
of lesser lauded ramparts
born to deflect the tempest
and buffer more lusty forms

those mad whirligigs of thorns
who thrilling at the margins
porous and entwined
extorting force from force
thrum and howl before the lawn

like minstrels during battle
these turbines of the wayside
and heroes of the thicket
this music grown of quickset
berry, slip and cutting rises

fierce and full of fettle
holding fast the selvedge
to champion the fates
of creatures large and small
these backwoods incubators

do churn out fur and feather
to populate the rooty coppice
and deck the canopy with song
playing minstrel to ravaged furrows
flushed empty by the plough

bless every briar and prickle
and every gorse and bracken
bless every burr and catch weed
and every furze and nettle
that rises thrilling from the lawn


lucy meskill