February 5, 2007

snowy river

Giant wings going down the road –or props of a windmill blades –or the wings of an angel so big.

A man points out that Security is a a type of Theartre now. It is all about feeling, It is a kabuki dance.
Three Little birds are at the door to my park
Sitting for split seconds, flinking about and away
A chickadee, a blue-grey nuthatch, a reddish wren –winter wren in the winter?

Tired a little from shoveling snow, hands burnt from photos in the snowy river banks.

The snow winds roar down up the thru our river valley the cabins hear them coming ang crouch before them
Then there is a blurry sea of drifting snow, a watery thingee to float thru

Out and across the lot of the post office, now we know what the moaning schreeching sound was, it is the scream of the wind thru things, car parts, light poles, electric wires, joined by church bells tolling and overhead roil rolling glittery swarms of stars...a clear cold cacaphony.

1 comment:

Mary E.Carey said...

Hi Diana -- Thanks for checking out my blog. I was amazed when I traced the links back to your blogs. Love the sketches of the Emily Dickinson house and the entry the poems the guide passed out. Also the reference to Hampshire College and the birds. Is most or all of the artwork yours? The colors are us week paintings? I'd like to use some of your photos -- with credits of course -- some time. Thanks for the recommedation of the Eddie blog. Nice design!