ditch,

the poetry that matters

Megan N. R. Wildhood

Megan N. R. Wildhood lives and writes in Seattle, Washington.  Her work has appeared in Vineyards: A Journal of Christian Poetry, Ballard Street Poetry Journal, and the "Readers Write" section of The Sun.  She has won The Nature of Words' annual Rising Star writing competition for short nonfiction, nature essay and poetry.

 

The Little Book of Longing

after Leonard Cohen

 


It was a mourning of leaves over fresh frost…

 

             they roses in the filed

unhooked their clothes from the drying line

and shook them out; praysed to God

 

inquisitivity

slight insurgency

in choiring angels

 

       they doves for some rock-solid

heart touching, beated thorough their dough

ground corn

 

distinctional

no directional

yet emergence sees

 

       they throes to the field and the sky

it looks like a toss-together scraps of tin

perhaps with the hopes of letting light in

 

identify

is to humilify

might dis-pair

 

       they nos about big animals

merge finely whittled vessels with the harbor

set up sail, church all their passions, ream

 

a shotflair

repair

the wreck to fie

 

        they broken among the field

plot down, dig down for clay to their walls

fall off in pieces daily now, scatter see-d

 

glassened

befriend

in tents feet

 

        they raysed fists to their sky

upturned bottomless bowl pressing in

like what overs them in their undergo

 

mostly must

reep eat

dark when

 

        they storms through their valley

hold hope up to the holy

for approval, fill, set out buckets

 

high sent

a parent

in power, ring

 

       they dasyed their home

stubborn web in a fitful land

left rest, out the back

 

more fling

more being

stub, burn meant

 

      they rises in mountains, like mountains

to meet their chosen ground

looking losts, getting found

 

in their morning of leaves under fresh frost.

 


Simulacra 

Roses are little girls

in a dance field

white on the moon.

 

In the days warm

like fight the roses

held hands tight

 

for cheer and stability.

Cheer is a hillside of houses

tight stability housing hillsides

 

and the moon a little rose

field dancing

in the night.

 

 

                                                                                                       January 12, 2014