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Martini On The Rocks

After a double martini

the very air is more intense.

The distant shore sinks into the deep lake

darkly stained by heavy pines

and cumbrous clouds low-slung.

Silence is a symphony heart-heard,

the sough of needles, sighing reeds.

Chill wavelets lip the pebbled beach,

stir mossy shadows, smell green.

In the cool twilight pale daisies

light a path to the purpling water.

I hunch upon the stone steps intent,

my book braced against my knees.

The words are nearly gone.

Around me invasive windows flare.

The rock grows hard against my back, and cold.

But I cannot stop.

Still I run with the Creeks

through the luscious wilds of Georgia.

I feel the whisper of thistled arrows flying

eye-straight to the bird,

the feathered quartz striking down the deer.

My legs quiver with the tension of the race.

Finally, I close the romantic Creeks back into history.

I fling the ice puddle from my drink over

the geranium plants beside the steps,

into the musky dusk of this fractious day.

From its grassy galaxy I pluck an ashen star,

spilling pollen through my fingers.

The crisp flower is electric in my palm

whorling its petals in Fibonacci splendor.

O mighty multiple daisy –

O mighty multiple Creeks before Columbus –

O mighty multiple histories crumbling before

the Daughter of Time –

O mighty multiple martini!

Monday is a weekend away.

Soon I will go out for fish and chips

swimming in sweet vinegar.

But, yet awhile, I will share the last  light

with the damp toad as still as death

in my geranium roots.

Cynthia Buell Thomas

◄ Usufruct

Hebden Bridge ►


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Greg Freeman

Thu 30th Sep 2010 12:52

You paint a fine picture of dusk and serenity, Cynthia. I love the stillness of it

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Lynn Dye

Tue 28th Sep 2010 22:45

Really enjoyed reading this, Cynthia, love your descriptions.x

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Ray Miller

Tue 28th Sep 2010 11:27

Very fine poem, Cynthia. Loved the 2nd verse, heart-heard is great, and purpling water.The mighty multiple martini is a sublime touch. My only complaint is Fibonacci splendour. If I never hear Fibonacci again it'll be too soon.

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Cate Greenlees

Tue 28th Sep 2010 11:17

Love this one Cynthia. Your language is richly descriptive, and the idea of being so engrossed in your novel, entwined with enjoying your evening martini is innovative and clever, {as is your choice of title!}
I really enjoyed reading this.
Cate xx

<Deleted User> (7212)

Mon 27th Sep 2010 22:08

At last Cyn - one I can largely unnerstand - and very nice too
(if that's the word). Bravo !

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jean lucy thompson

Mon 27th Sep 2010 21:34

Lovely poem Cynthia especially liked the phrase Silence is a symphony heart-heard. I have just been reading a book about the Creeks actually (great interest there) The book is called Creek Blood Mary

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