the desolate

earth splits wide
a snake swallows prey whole

hide in feathered wings
of a phoenix of ashes
flickering embers of hope stirring
into life, fly
to safety, spring
to the moon, seek
the deepest crater, shelter
and make a home
with the desolate,
among birds
that have no nest


Contributing to d’Verse Poets, Open Link Night #9, read other poets and share your own at with the community of writers at d’Verse Poets Pub.
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21 Responses to the desolate

  1. Heaven says:

    I like these lines – the images seem to be contrasting (hope vs despair) :

    hide in feathered wings
    of a phoenix of ashes
    flickering embers of hope stirring
    into life

  2. Ann Grenier says:

    Somehow your poem sounds like a prediction. I here tones of survival but not sure how much hope lies in the burning embers. A thought provoking poem Anna.

  3. It sounds like prediction and survival to me too, except in that nest which is no nest the ‘bird’ will hide out, bide its time.

  4. brian says:

    intriguing verse tonight…the paradoxes…the escapism of going to the moon to hide with birds of no nest…intriguing…still wrapping my head around it…

  5. Patricia says:

    I hate when my world splits open… and wrecks my nest
    I want to fly away and hide too… but usually it’s just under my covers. =) I enjoyed this… thanks.

  6. Sheila Moore says:

    speaks to me of danger and fear and then finding protection and comfort with like minds or even with those less fortunate or more vulnerable than thee.

  7. A tender and beautiful poem; it reaches a long way in….xxxj

  8. Gay says:

    Your poem was very thought provoking. My reaction, typical of me, was — “or don’t” – go forth, face danger, take the bull by its horns as we say in Texas. But then that’s just me. If in doubt, charge!

    • waysidewordgarden says:

      Love that, Gay. Reminds of the “fight or flight” response we have when facing danger. Take the bull by the horns or hide from it– or even run with them, as they do in Spain…:)

  9. manicddaily says:

    Love the contrasts.

  10. What I got from this is the idea of coming together in times of tragedy.

  11. waysidewordgarden says:

    Thank you, everyone, for your comments and insight, I appreciate them all.

  12. Beth says:

    Courage is hard to come by sometimes, especially when the need to sacrifice security arises. Beautiful, thought provoking poetry.


  13. C Rose says:

    I liked the polarization in this piece. Taking from the passion of rising but to what end? Great write my friend ~ Rose

  14. Birds that have no nest, so sad. I saw a few of them downtown today, the human kind.

    Your title hits a home run with this.

  15. I think these are thoughts of a beautiful, beautiful night……. Lovely….. Once for my job I had to drive daily to Antelope Wells New Mexico from Columbus New Mexico, for about 4 weeks after 9/11. It was about a two hour drive in a barren desert, and I mean barren…. Not another soul to be seen. Free range cattle, yes. Buffalo, yes. People or other cars, no. Driving at night was hazardous mostly because of the free range cattle in the road, but also all the other wildlife. I wondered where in the world do these animals live? Coyotes, Jack-rabbits committing suicide in the glare of your headlights every couple of hundred yards……. There were thousands of them every night on the edge of the road or just off of it with their pink eyes flashing. My vehicles probably killed hundreds of them over the four weeks, the headlights were like magnets to them and at 60 mph I’m not swerving to avoid a rabbit. The next morning at 8 am I would head back to Columbus on that same road. And not once did I see the carcass of any of those rabbits that I had killed only hours before, already gone to the food chain. And then I would see the hawks. Either circling or sitting quietly on a cactus or little mesquite bush, watching the roadway. There were hundreds of them too. Your poem just made me remember those hawks…. Thank you for sharing it……

    • waysidewordgarden says:

      Really enjoyed this, hearing about the travels down those barren roads. I’m glad to hear this inspired your memory. I’ve never seen a desert, and I can’t imagine what it would be like driving alone in such a place, especially at night, except for all those animals. Just wonderful, I see so much poetry and beauty in those drives of yours. Thanks so much for taking the time to comment here!

  16. Dear Anna, it is my absolute pleasure to have visited this well written poem, “the desolate,” which is imbued with so many emotion provokers… The title itslef describes the vastness of that desert I told you about. Readers will take your cues to go to many different places, many distant memories… That is the joy and magic of reading poetry. And sometimes, in my opinion, that’s the joy and magic of writing it too….. Your writing is superb, it suggests those little things in life that touch us all at one point or another with our own different little memories, and you display them with the comfort and ease of understanding, words painted with the brush of aesthetic beauty and ardor. Readers will travel all over the map at your suggestions, and they won’t always arrive at the place you intnded them to. But it can be just as beautiful to the reader. Honestly, I think good poetry accounts for that, depends on that reader’s baggage to become the beauty of his read. You have this wonderful ability, and I love it, to pencil in that freedom of the readers imagination, allowing it to soar amidst your words and suggestions with his own life’s experiences and memories taking him to the most beautiful places that you may never even have seen. As a poet, I think our first duty is to allow our words to become just the wind beneath the wings of the readers imagination. Pennies laying at the bottom of a sky blue painted pool, for example, being distorted by each little wave of the wishing fountain, causing them to become bigger and smaller, bigger and smaller with each little ripple. I am so happy that you enjoyed that in my poem…. That makes me so happy. But I suspect your enjoyment is tied to a memory you have of a wishing fountain or well, or the emotions you feel in rememberance of visiting one with somebody special, mom, dad perhaps, a lover….. or maybe just a photographic memory like I have a wishing pool I found in the mall in Dayton, Ohio as a young boy, visiting there with my mom many, many years ago. Obviously a day with my mother is one of my most savored emotions….. And borrowing it for just a moment to apply it to another story, another poem, can increase the beauty of that read a thousand percent! Anyway, that’s what good poetry does, and it’s what your poem, “the desolate,” did for me…… good job Anna…..

  17. Glynn says:

    Stark and desperate images — hiding, flight, safety. Well done.

Thank you for your comments, much appreciated!!

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