Her sweet flexible voice
animates the air,
exchanging silence for glory.
Flushing grouse from fields of sagebrush,
her energy rises richer than the horned owl’s call.
A young fox flames through the field—
its breath yaps a cogent beat
until their forceful voices blend.
Fox and Girl.
During a dramatic pause
they glance at one another,
then sing out the morning
as branches push buds open green,
and soft breezes carry hints of sage
to trick her into thinking
that spring is really here—
unaware that next week’s snow
will break branches with its wet heavy depth.
She shifts into a minor key
following the breezes,
while fox gathers food for the storm.
Brenda Warren 2012
We’re halfway there–15 out of 30 poems are complete at undercaws. Caw! Caw!
For this piece, I pictured a young woman who auditioned for my school’s variety show, singing outside over a Montana field in the spring. This girl’s voice is distinct, it spoke to me on a physical level, like being outside in open places does. The snow imagery came as we’re expecting sporadic snow here over the next several days. It can devastate leafy branches, as the leaves provide a foundation for heavy snow. Snap! Most springs here, there is at least one storm that leaves (no pun intendend) branches scattered in the streets.
This piece marks 52 pieces for my prompt blog, The Sunday Whirl. I’m proud of the community there, and our persistence in chasing words.