Category Archives: Ethel Mortenson Davis

Wooly Bear Caterpillar

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

I’ve come to lie
my head again in your lap
this Wooly Bear morning:
Frost in the air,
the sky unbelievably blue,
the leaves red-orange.

I reach down and touch
The softness of the caterpillar’s
black and brown bands.
She quickly springs into a ball—
so strong, so resilient:

Strong enough to survive
90 below zero in arctic winters,
spinning a cocoon
and then in spring
turning into a Golden Isabella moth.

This strength is something
to take home with us
and rid our toxic relationships,
disregarding them like clothing
we let drop around our ankles
and step away from
with a new nakedness,
frankness,

ready to start building
new cocoons that turn us
into golden moths.

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An Angel of Sorts

To Ed DiMaio

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

I must tell you
that sometime
when all is lost,
when there is
no more hope in the world,

the great cosmos,
the lovely universe,
puts on our path
a free spirit,
an angel of sorts,
or a person of faith —

and says,

“Here is your protector,
the one who will lift your soul up,
the one who has come
this evening to be your guide
to position yourself again
in the universe.”

And now he says,

“How comely you are,
how lovely your skin,
how grand your soul.”

Now you have your answer,
the answer to Hopelessness:
Unexpected grace.

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Goddess

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

The hem of her dress
brushes against the trees
and the open meadows,
open spaces that bank
against the forest,
appearing familiar,
as if they were
from some other lifetime:

Brushing that brings
into focus
the sharpness
of the fox’s eyes
and the grass snake
that climbed
up into the cedar tree
to escape the flooded ground.

She is eye-level to us,
holding her head high,
looking into us
and we into her.

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People

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

There have been
periods of time
in history
where the people
have had power,

periods of peace
where rulers
have been peaceful,
and people have had
their say.

But now,
we, as people,
have lost our power.
We are living
in a period
of war and injustice:

Like the ancient civilizations
where despots ruled
with reigns of terror
for millennium.

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Spirit

a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis

sailing

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End

Kevin Davis.jpg

by Ethel Mortenson Davis

His breathing
became ragged.

It was a rainy day.
At 6:00 p.m.
he passed away.

I was with him,
finally alone,
all afternoon.
I told him I was sorry
he had to endure
this ending.

A woman doctor
came up from
a different floor
to say to me
that when we die,
we choose the people
we want to be with.

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Indra’s Net a Success!

I am hoping that The Weirding Storm, A Dragon Epic, takes off in sales.  It is selling slowly, but Indra’s Net, which Ethel and I both have poems in, is already a huge success.  It is published by Bennison Books, the same publisher that published The Weirding Storm in Great Britain, and currently it is number 1 in sales on amazon.com in the poetry anthology category.  Deborah Bennison is a great editor!  Her book featuring poets from all over the world is obviously a huge success!

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Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Published Books, Thomas Davis