Southern Dream Catcher
The bare broken branches hold up
their bayou lure, the haint blues
and the witch's cobalt ball the traps
of the southern dream catcher.
On a night the moon shuts tight
its quartered eye, white wisps writhe
like snakes inside colored bottles
balanced on welcoming arms.
Morning's shine on the crape myrtle
stills our breath-denying fear.
© 2012 Maureen E. Doallas
____________________________
For those interested in bottle trees, go here.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
13 comments:
Your poems are always so beautiful!
I love bottle trees!
like snakes inside colored bottles
balanced on welcoming arms.
cobalt too...lovely vision of a Southern night...bkm
Amazing. Such rich images. The atmoshperic quality just grew and grew through the poem!
nice...i like the contrast between the closing stanza and the gritty feel of the imagery prior...great piece maureen
I just learned about this recently, from a poet friend, Paula Lambert....she has a poem called "The Bottle Tree."
All the lovely words there are for blue...
I enjoyed this.
I'd forgotten about bottle trees. I haven't seen one in years. Thank you for this trip through the deep South, and for the link to all the information..much much I didn't know. The poem itself is beautifully constructed - preserving myth, folklore in such a beautiful wrap.
Nice piece..love this...like snakes inside colored bottles
balanced on welcoming arms.
fascinating ... both the poem and the history.
good one!
A bottle tree!!!! How divine.
such beautiful imagery... expressed as only you can. Lovely. (Reminded me of the scene from Winn Dixie with Cicely Tyson and her bottle tree.)
I love the clever use of alliteration. It makes the piece work nicely. A wonderful composition, Maureen.
Post a Comment