Waters of March

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rain today, made me think of this song, beautiful lyrics

the waters of march (águas de março; excerpt)

a stick, a stone, it’s the end of the road
it’s the rest of a stump, it’s a little alone
it’s a sliver of glass, it is life, it’s the sun
it is night, it is death, it’s a trap, it’s a gun

the oak when it blooms, a fox in the brush
the knot in the wood, the song of a thrush
the will of the wind, a cliff, a fall
a scratch, a lump, it is nothing at all

it’s the wind blowing free, it’s the end of the slope
it’s a beam, it’s a void, it’s a hunch, it’s a hope
and the river bank talks of the waters of march
it’s the end of the strain, it’s the joy in your heart ….

©A. D. Joyce, 2016

Solar Eclipse 2016: Three Poems

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When I was a kid, I was fascinated with all things outer space–planets, the moon, stars, and sun. Solar eclipses were exciting, and I remember trying to make an eclipse viewer with pieces of cardboard. There’s a total eclipse happening tonight, so in its honor, here are a trio of poems from past posts. They hint at the possibilities and flights of imagination that the heavens inspire in me.

voidascenevolution©A. D. Joyce, 2016