Take the day
before winter comes
to measure the distance
below heaven to earth.
Culture it in the dazzling flash
in New Mexico's desert.
Picture the forked tongue of a rattler
seeking in unforgiving ground,
tensile. Regard the stiff-eared rabbit
left red-eyed and twitching
in Alamogordo's dust. Pray what words
might be heard at the very moment
in that place on a continent far off
where the heat will be greatest.
Consider the imprecision of numbers.
Take the morning after the day of
to think through the clarity
of roughened right-angled elbows
as fingers fastened, stretched
and gripped again. Recall the parachute
billowing. Now compute the strength
to pull up to pull back to pull off
the end of this same story
in your own hometown
after you've paced
its quiet streets at dawn.
© 2010 Maureen E. Doallas. All Rights Reserved.
I wrote this poem for the Tuesday, June 29, Blog Carnival sponsored by Bridget Chumbley at One Word at a Time.
The Blog Carnival is a biweekly online event open to anyone. Participants write on a one-word prompt or topic. This week's is "strength".
At Bridget's place you'll find a list of links to all of the contributions, which are posted throughout Tuesday and often through to the end of the week.
The Blog Carnival's FaceBook page is here.
The prompt for the next Blog Carnival, on July 13, is "summer".