Poetry

Two Poems: Taylor Graham

In Poetry on November 11, 2011 at 3:36 am

Rabbits of Perranzabuloe

St. Patrick drove the snakes and frogs
from Ireland, then sailed across
to Perranzabuloe (does that really mean
Perished-in-the-Sands-Below?),

ridding it of Druids. But not of rabbits.
Nor did he make wind-break
against duning, drifting sands that bury
any church was built there. But,

back to the rabbits. On dry-sea sand
ridged and hollow with a reedy fringe,
grass nourishes on nothing, as do rabbits
do -impossibly desert place

full of rabbit-holes. Rabbits scamper
every-which-way, hundreds to the acre,
living on nothing but the good left-
hind luck of rabbits.

 

Rumi Tells Me in a Dream

Maybe you already know how to fly.
Just stay above traffic
and watch out for overhead wires.

Don’t get bogged down in winter.
Skidding downhill on ice
is never the same as flying.

After a storm, a wise man
could shovel the walk if he wished
to spoil the beauty.

Remember, a banker can ski
but a poet flies without wings.
Either of them can crash.

Most important,
don’t let the bottomside
get too heavy.

Frozen crystal makes a slippery
walk. Never mistake snow
for moonlight.

 

Taylor Graham lives on 5 acres with a German Shepherd trained for search-and-rescue, an untrainable cat, 4 sheep; and a husband (also trained for search-and-rescue). Taylor has searched for lost children, overdue hunters and hikers, victims of drowning, homicide, and disaster, including the 1985 Mexico City earthquake. Her poetry appears widely in print and online; she’s included in California Poetry: From the Gold Rush to the Present, and her collection The Downstairs Dance Floor was 2005 winner of the Robert Phillips Chapbook Prize. Her latest – Walking with Elihu: poems on Elihu Burritt, the Learned Blacksmith – is available on Amazon

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