The Sunday Poem: Stewart S. Warren... High Summer Blue

You can smell the new-mown hay in this wonderful poem by Stewart S. Warren.  We know summer won't last forever.  But caught in the slow creep of the seasons, time does seem to stop just when the sun is directly above us.


Albuquerque poet Stewart S. Warren is the author of five volumes of poetry plus a host of other works. All his book royalties go to WaterAid America.  He runs Mercury HeartLink Publishing.



High Summer Blue
 
 
If you’ve been lonely
for a mountain or the slightest
whisper of a season
there is no hope
for you in this world.
 
Only half of me
is a herd animal,
and now the moon above
the city is not a comfort
but a tease.
 
It’s high summer
but the sky leans two
invisible minutes a day
into the falling.
It knows dying
 
as the other side
of its own willing hand.
Down in Bosque Farms
they’re getting a second cutting—
horse hay, bunch of sweet clover.
 
Two simple clouds post
above the Manzanos, a third
birthing in ether. The snow
will come from nowhere.
Not one leaf has turned.



Poetry submissions are welcome.  Email theditchrider@gmail.com.

Views: 83

Comment by Margaret Randall on August 5, 2012 at 8:21am

We can always count on Stewart to give us the perfect poem, lyrical yet acutely observant and biting when that's needed. The lines "Only half of me / is a herd animal" haunt me, prodding me to ask questions about my own herd animal instincts or lack of same. Have I herded, or allowed myself to be herded? And if so, which half gravitates towards that serious danger? This is a poem that keeps on giving. Thank you.

Comment by BARBARA BYERS on August 5, 2012 at 8:32am

Beautiful, Stewart. And just exact. Thanks.

Comment by Dee Cohen on August 5, 2012 at 10:31am

Really nice poem Stewart. You've captured the almost stalled summer feel. The seasons change, 2 minutes at a time. Thank you for posting this and thanks to Ditchrider too for keeping the Sunday poems popping. D

Comment by Izquierdo on August 5, 2012 at 10:45am

As a Bosque Farmer, living amid hayfields and herd animals, including alpacas next to McDonalds, and where the Manzanos are hidden behind the partially manzano orchard treeline, except on west-east streets, I appreciate Stewart's poem and Ditchrider's selection of it. It is in August that we yearn for that extra two minutes of shade. The West Mesa is of no help in blotting out the late afternoon sun, being so flat and low that the Rio bosque provides the initial shade. I'm looking forward to the third and fourth cuttings when the butterflies are so thick its hard to drive on the main drag from Peralta, Bosque Farms and Isleta Pueblo to the Duke City. The poem provides me with a little hope that the two clouds over the Manzanos will turn into an August thunderstorm. The clouds do tend to multiple in August, even if little rain accompanies them..

Comment by JeSais on August 5, 2012 at 12:54pm

nice.

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