(Wintered Geese, watercolor, 2009, Jane Kohut-Bartels)
OPEN LINK NIGHT over at dversepoets.com. Come read some marvelous poetry. Tonight is hosted by my dear friend, Kanzen Sakura, (AKA Toni Spenser). AND! It’s her Birthday!!!!!
—
I feel the rain waiting to be born.
I hear the banshee wind
Race around eaves,
Scaring the haunts in the attic,
Making hambone frenzy with
hollow, powdery limbs.
Trees now tilting whirligigs
Ancient pin, water oaks
Dancing St. Germaine’s dance–
Frenzy below amongst quilted colors
Ruffling the feathers of nature
Tossing the spectrum wide.
I smell the mossy rain finally born,
Hear the clatter on a tin roof
Wind howling down rainspouts
Smell again the musty fog
Born of a sullen, moaning stream
And head for bed under the eaves,
Shared with a Banshee zephyr
And a ham-bone frenzy
serenading ’til dawn.
Jane Kohut-Bartels
Copyrighted, 2017
Tags: dversepoets.com, I feel the rain...., poetry
November 14, 2017 at 12:27 am
This is most excellent. I love the manager wind and all the scents written about in this poem.
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November 14, 2017 at 2:45 am
Thank you! I like the first line and still haven’t gotten the poem beneath right! But there is time and much room for improvement. I just couldn’t get much beyond that first line before, and I am making a bit of progress. LOL! Thank you again, Toni.
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November 14, 2017 at 9:55 pm
Anytime dear Jane!
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November 16, 2017 at 8:49 pm
Welcome back, Jane! The opening line has a fresh feel and the banshee wind makes me shiver and I love the lines:
‘Scaring the haunts in the attic,
Making hambone frenzy with
hollow, powdery limbs’.
I also enjoyed
‘Ruffling the feathers of nature
Tossing the spectrum wide’
and
‘I smell the mossy rain finally born,
Hear the clatter on a tin roof
Wind howling down rainspouts’.
Deliciously atmospheric words in this poem!
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November 16, 2017 at 8:49 pm
I do love this poem, again!
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November 16, 2017 at 9:18 pm
lovely catalogue of the sounds and sensations of the rain.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:20 pm
I love the way you describe the wind and the rain being born… under the eaves is a good place to be.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:21 pm
Thank you, Bjorn. This poem took a very different path than I intended. I’ll be over later. Just buried a cat.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:22 pm
Thank you, Jane. I don’t know what I wanted here, but I couldn’t really follow after that first line. Sad.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:22 pm
Oh… I’m so sorry for you and for the cat.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:23 pm
Thank you, thank you, again. And Happy Birthday, dear, sweet friend.
xox
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November 16, 2017 at 9:24 pm
❤ xxx
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November 16, 2017 at 9:25 pm
Oh, in your reading, Kim….it doesn’t seem so bad. LOL! I just can’t quite connect with the opening line. It’s not really there yet…and I probably will rewrite this poem all over again…lol….until I have used up all the possibilities of where that first line takes me. Thank you, Kim. Tomorrow I will be over.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:27 pm
I wasn’t going to say anything and then I just gave up. Willow was a crippled cat we rescued exactly a year ago, and he was doing great. But he went into the back yard, the domain of the dogs, and met his end there this morning. Sigh.
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November 16, 2017 at 9:39 pm
Your words breath atmosphere and a wonderful wildness and I think they connect with the first line.
I do understand how sometimes we are not satisfied with our words, feel they could be better – but I loved reading yours.
So sorry about Willow.
Anna :o]
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November 16, 2017 at 9:45 pm
It has the feeling of the rain, ephemeral.
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November 16, 2017 at 10:10 pm
Such a visceral journey this was! Beautifully penned.
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November 16, 2017 at 11:52 pm
Thank you, Angela.
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November 16, 2017 at 11:53 pm
Thank you, Anna. I’m a bit numb right now. We had Willow for just a year. He was crippled in some way when we found him, recovered, and now this. Jesus.
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November 17, 2017 at 12:02 am
This is a lovely poem Jane ~ Liking the sounds of the rain being born ~
Sad to read about your cat ~
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November 17, 2017 at 12:13 am
Thanks, Grace….on both counts.
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November 17, 2017 at 1:00 am
My pleasure.
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November 17, 2017 at 2:50 am
Wonderful write about the impending birth of the rain and all that follows.
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November 17, 2017 at 3:29 am
I like the idea of rain being “born” and the wind scaring the haunts but serenading others at the same time.
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November 17, 2017 at 7:06 am
That’s the whole thing about poems, Jane. Once they are on the page they have a life of their own – we just have to nurture them and let them develop at their own pace.
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November 17, 2017 at 12:28 pm
Agreed, Kim. They have a life of their own.
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November 17, 2017 at 12:29 pm
Thanks, Frank.
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November 17, 2017 at 12:29 pm
Thanks, Alwi for reading and your comment.
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November 17, 2017 at 12:30 pm
Thanks, Jane.
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November 17, 2017 at 1:16 pm
🙂
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November 20, 2017 at 12:50 pm
Reading your poetry is always a rich sensory experience. Wonderful stuff!
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November 20, 2017 at 10:06 pm
Hiya Nick!! Thank you so much, my dear friend. as friends for over 10 years your reading and commenting have always helped me in my writing! Best! Jane
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