Friday, February 19, 2016
Leave Your Mark
What sort of grandmother
when water and sky are swollen, gunmetal gray
and the egret wading in the marsh is a white that makes
everything else in the world recede, and the slightest
motion of oar, trailing hand, or leaf creates a wake
that might circle the globe and return to lap
this particular silence as heat transforms
to needle the sky with lightning, and day
plays starless night,
takes the child,
yes, with a lifejacket, in the kayak
and shows her the wild peace of the world?
And who's to say which is fossil
and which is living creature leaving its mark?
--Rebecca Okrent from Boys of My Youth
I hope you find yourself leaving your mark today. More Poetry Friday with Donna over at Mainly Write.