Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, December 4, 1994 TAG: 9412060007
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-10 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
SOURCE:
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Rain slid down the windows
In rivulets, a red covered bridge,
Several side planks missing,
All they could see.
She asked, "can you be tender and
Passionate at the same time?'
He felt the silent sound of frost
Preparing its work on a rain soaked
Mountainside, Laminating in hoary white the
Brown and russet hues of Fall
He adressed her question
With a sophomore's fear of failing,
"We must consider the contradiction
Inherent in this assumption."
She stared straight ahead
Brown oak leaves holding steady on the limbs,
Reminding her that of all the leaves in Autumn
They are the dullest and the last
To respond to winter's call.
Feminism
Summer's high Renaissance floats
Between summer's steamy heat
And the crisp edge of Autumn.
The Cricket's staccato beat
Quickens the wheezy serenity
From the Cicada hum.
Only dustmotes of light
Getting through the dark green leaves
Strike the queen-sized hammock
Where mother and pregnant daughter
Sway to windshadow rhythms
In Meadow-light air
That vibrates with blood's connection.
They are part of the moon's pull,
Like the Autumn mist
That falls on leaf-drenched yards.
They sing softly on gravity's edge
In a sacramental language,
The speech of Eve before the Apple.
Their ritual moments
As effortless as sanddrift around rocks,
Brandish the sweet thrust of silence.
by CNB