“I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones” — Albert Einstein

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Clean Ground

When I leave the pavement with a jolt
I leave what I have for what I know,
for the gravel roads of home that run past
tangled fencerows where the only gaps
are where elms once stood.

I cross the ditch which becomes a torrent in spring
and drive past gnarled oaks and lilacs that bloom on old wood
and try to remember why I left.

The pond lies at the lowest point on the farm
with banks of waving cattails.
Two months past summer solstice…
it’s only half full. A new dock straddles dry ground
because the drought persists.
Clouds hurry overhead.
They neither darken nor slow though we watch.

Dust coats the Queen Anne’s lace
and Ice Age boulders that lie scattered along the fence,
smooth and broad as shoulders.
Bobolinks flirt with each other and the pheasants have returned,
waving mulberry plumage above the grass like ladies with parasols.
Pesticides had thinned them rare but now the ground is clean.
There are worse things than drought.

I saw an eagle yesterday.
He was young because his head was dark.
Eagles don’t often crowd the hawks, but there he sat
atop the ageless oak, surveying the dryness.
Because this is a better place than some.


She Writes said...

How majestic.

Gabriela Abalo said...

beautifully written.



Liza said...

I love how you write.

Jemi Fraser said...

Just gorgeous! :)

Yvonne Osborne said...

Amy,Gabi, Liza, Jemi,

Thank you. Thank all of you so much. This poem is close to my heart. I consider it my blog's flagship!

Jonas said...

Ah, the imagery!

Mary Anne Gruen said...

As always, your work is wonderful! I admire your great talent.

I've given you an award over at my blog. But you don't need to do the whole award thingy. I just wanted to honor your work and tell other people about it.

Carolina Valdez Miller said...

My word, you're amazing. You have such an incredible gift to paint images. And so deep and heartfelt.

"Because this is a better place than some."

Just beautiful. And sometimes, this is enough, and just right.

Yvonne Osborne said...

I'm so glad you liked it. It means a lot to mean that you felt compelled to comment.

Mary Anne,
Oh... thank you. Thank you so much!I'm overwhelmed. And on my way to see what it is!

Thank you. I'm so pleased you liked this and felt it the way I do. It is my heart, truly. Thanks.

Helen Ginger said...

I loved this. It really took me there.

What is a bobolink?

Straight From Hel

Yvonne Osborne said...

Hi Helen!
A bobolink is a little bird with a distinctive song, a three syllable uplift, much like its name. Thanks!

Julie Musil said...

Your words are so beautiful.

Thank you, Yvonne, for sharing your dad's story on my blog this morning. My son and I read it together, and afterwards, we both said, "Wow."

Will you please tell him "Thank you" for me today?

Jojomama said...

So beautiful. Thanks for sharing. (= You express vivd imagery with an economy of words. That's skill.

Yvonne Osborne said...

Thanks. And, yes, I will.

Thank you so much.

Jingle said...


It has been a long time without visiting..
Happy Saturday!