a poetry e-zine

 

 

  

  

  

  

  

  

  

Clyde Kessler

MY NEIGHBOR IS A WREN IN A FOGGY MEADOW

 

The woman who often sketched this meadow with charcoal

drew a ghost wren one morning with it wings stretched and flying

past a granary. She said it was all haunted and gone, made of straw

and a few garbled song notes near the back fence. She said because

it was childless and soft with moonlight stranded at noon, it could sing

like nubbin-cobs carved into clouds, or some gravel clacking in a box.

The wren sang once in its gray portrait, the soul, the distance,

and helped us hear the one gate opening, some frozen sedges rattling.

There was a late autumn starlight in its feathers. There was

a river, a glade, a few sycamore trees, a moth flitting from a stump,

all reflected in the wren’s eyes, so that it lived. Next day the woman

slipped away into the ghost that still sings as a wren in the fog.

 

 

Clyde Kessler’s poems have been published recently in Now and Then, Cortland Review, Your Daily Poem, Writing Disorder, Triggerfish Critical Review, and Contemporary Haibun. Clyde lives in Radford, Virginia with my wife Kendall and our son Alan. He’s a founding member of Blue Ridge Discovery Center, an environmental education organization with programs in western North Carolina and southwestern Virginia.

Copyright 2014  Chantarelle's Notebook