Showing posts from January, 2010

I Am The Creek

Slow and easy in this fall of Han Lu mother of minnow swimming in nursery schools sleeping in cradles of algae and sedge. Dance floor to Damselflies gyrating turquoise unions to tambourines of leaves. Tomb to tribes of oak anointed in my waters last rites repeated in the currents passage. Riparian spring to hare and fox drunk in the tent of dusk and apricot light of a Samhain moon Place of wading into muddy beginnings and pools of clarity Changing my course often lithe as the water snake’s glide. Jennifer O’Neill Pickering Han Lu, Chinese Autumn called Cold Dew Samhain (sawin)Celtic end of summer celebration My poem was inscribed on a tablet and can be seen and read at 9th Ave. and Riverside Blvd. in Sacramento, CA. It is part of the "Poem Circle" which is part of the larger sculpture entitled “Open Circle,” by artist, Les Birleson.

The Seattle Salmon Tea Rose (#F6666)

The Seattle Salmon Tea Rose (#F6666) Energy forced this play its balanced mix of carotenoids cued by nature’s understudies; enough water, the wrong time temperatures of unseasonable degree. The tea rose stays in character, not to be upstaged by an empty house, January suns suspended from ceilings of fog spotlight this minimalist stage its leafless props devoid of their audience of bees, She delivers her soliloquy not unlike you or I, in our own out of sync performances blooming to false springs. Jennifer O’Neill Pickering