Lughnsasa 2013 - a reading (on YouTube)
Marshlands of clouds meander near the evening sun. Their
silver outlines a river wandering aimlessly through the bayou of the horizon.
Still, clear water covers the modeled topography of the river bottom, its
glassy surface protecting a Lilliputian landscape from harm. A lone marsh hen
silently slices a wake across the smooth, black water until time heals its
mirrored surface of the scar of her passing.
Low, angry clouds march in like an army on the move. Thunder
rumbles an uneasy warning, a dispatch from their distant war. As crosscurrents
of wind forms a riptide, sails of lily pads glide across the water, a green
armada of coracles that never reach the shore. A tiny dragonfly keeps
station, battling a chill wind, bobbing and dipping between the line dividing
lake from shore.
Rain sheeting down the window paints a watercolor of the
landscape, its broad and narrow brushstrokes blurring sky with trees. A lone
droplet trickles down the rain-spattered pane, seeding an avalanche of tears
before more sprout like mushrooms in its wake.
A chaos of concentric circles swirl as rain drips into the
hanging pool, running like rivulets down the chains suspending it from heaven.
With a teardrop poised on every needle, clusters of tiny diamonds sparkle with the
last of summer’s sunlight as the spray of rain continues.
In the aftermath, grapes, like the irides of Europa's
wild-eyed children, or the wide eyes of playful garden predators, swell from
green to black overnight. Soon, the harvest like the reaper comes.
© 2013 Edward P. Morgan III
© 2013 Edward P. Morgan III
