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Picking up Sticks (Poem)
Picking up sticks:
some too rough,
too long, not long enough,
too stout, or heavy, crooked;
some with cracks
to pinch the fingers' skin.
in all this forest
there must be one
that's useful, like a ski pole,
a broom, a rod, a javelin, or staff.
Dry as ancient chicken bones,
twisted, signed by beetles
in cryptic runic alphabet,
knobbed and gnarly
as an old man's warted face.
Somewhere in this wood
there lies a good one,
patiently waiting to be found,
to become an afternoon companion.
some too rough,
too long, not long enough,
too stout, or heavy, crooked;
some with cracks
to pinch the fingers' skin.
in all this forest
there must be one
that's useful, like a ski pole,
a broom, a rod, a javelin, or staff.
Dry as ancient chicken bones,
twisted, signed by beetles
in cryptic runic alphabet,
knobbed and gnarly
as an old man's warted face.
Somewhere in this wood
there lies a good one,
patiently waiting to be found,
to become an afternoon companion.
Views: 17
Comment
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Comment by stephen dijoseph on January 15, 2010 at 9:07am
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hi...this was great imagery ...keep 'em comin!
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Comment by Dorraine Darden on January 4, 2010 at 12:56pm
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This was lovely, Bettina. A true tribute to the walking stick.
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Comment by Donna Stumpo on January 2, 2010 at 6:33pm
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Cool! I like this very much!
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Comment by Bettina Woolard on January 2, 2010 at 6:23pm
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Don't know why it came out as a paragraph and not a poem. Gotta get used to this here. I mean on hte other page.
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Comment by wiffledust on January 2, 2010 at 2:47pm
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this is fantastic, bettin!!! i love it. knobbed and gnarly......twisted, signed by beetles...such fabulous images!!! i'm so happy you're sharing this with us!!! what a great poet you are!
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