a photograph by Alazanto
Taken November 6, 2008 in the Adirondack Mountains
Sonnets 14 and 15
by Thomas Davis
14
On Friday nights I’d work all day, then walk
home from the office where two teenaged girls
were streaming past their mother with their talk
about this boy, this girl, their endless whirl
of friend, near-friend relationships that bloomed
and changed like clothing changed from day to day.
The minute that I touched the door excitement spumed
as I gulped down a meal before Green Bay—
and then we drove for forty country miles
to where two girls could dance and laugh to songs
and show that small town girls had mastered styles
that big town girls would envy all night long.
I sat inside a dinghy Burger King
and read while daughters spread their teen club wings.
1Green Bay, Wisconsin
15
An eagle hovered in the air above
our heads, wings trembling as it looked at us.
He’d been depressed for days, rejecting love
we’d tried to say, to show, to mean, discuss,
but driving Lake Superior’s rocky shore
he’d stared at forests we were driving past
and mumbled when he spoke, the sore
he felt so deep it kept him mute, downcast.
But when the eagle hovered in the air,
then dipped its wings and soared into the sky,
he smiled, his inward-looking eyes aware
of being, for a moment, in an eagle’s eyes.
From then on, though he struggled with black nights,
he found an eagle’s eyes and launched in flight.
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
Liebster Blog Award
When a gift is unexpected, and then it is opened, the world, for a moment, shines brighter.
has nominated fourwindowspress for the Liebster Blog Award. What makes this special is that Slowmoto’s site has photographs that are wonderful and worthy of a blog all by themselves, often acting as a metaphor to explore some aspect of life, but what makes the blog even more exciting is the poetry/wisdom printed below each photograph. There are many who try to be profound, but sometimes someone is profound because that is the way they are. This makes their truths images that burn into our minds. To be nominated by Slowmoto is an honor indeed.
This Award is given to bloggers who have less than 200 followers, all in the spirit of fostering new connections.
Liebster is German & means ‘dearest’ or ‘beloved’ but it can also mean ‘favorite’ & the idea of the Liebster award is to bring attention to blogs with less than 200 followers. Ethel and I are following Slowmoto’s lead as we write a post about it and pass the award on to 5 or more bloggers.
The Rules are:
- Show your thanks to the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
- Reveal your top 5 picks for the award and let them know by leaving a comment on their blog.
- Post the award on your blog.
- Bask in the love from the most supportive people on the blogosphere – other bloggers.
- And, best of all – have fun and spread the karma.
We would like to nominate the following blogs:
- http://raindancepoetry.wordpress.com
- http://skyraft.wordpress.com
- http://zumpoems.com
- http://scriptorwrites.wordpress.com
- http://insanebloom.wordpress.com
Related articles
- Liebster Blog Award (auroramorealist.wordpress.com)
- Liebster Blog Award – Yay, Delightful! (allaboutlemon.com)
- Liebster Blog Award (slowmoto.me)
Filed under Uncategorized
Butterfly
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
The yellow and black swallowtail
came to the window
(I told you because
you were looking for a sign—
so you could leave).
The doctor said,
“Hours or weeks.”
We all wept together.
Hours would have been more humane.
Do you remember
when you were little,
and you asked,
“When you die
do you close your eyes
and go to sleep?”
‘Yes,” I said.
Filed under Poetry
Rue de la Cité, a Photograph by Alazanto
Alazanto was Kevin Davis, our son
Filed under Art, Photography
Sonnet 12
by Thomas Davis
Before we reached the bank two twelve year olds
were on the water in the good canoe.
Both Brand and I looked at our sons1, their coup
apparent as they grinned at us, both bold
enough to know that, ten feet out, they controlled
the moment even though the wind still blew
and rain was falling hard, the clouds a stew
of swirling turbulence and cold.
“Okay,” Brand said. Inside the inlet, calm
prevailed, but as we went into the lake
the waves were higher than our heads. The qualms
I’d had at seeing youngsters make their break
to manhood with a crazymad aplomb
unmanned me–as they left me in their wake.
1 Brand Windmiller and his son, Jesse, and Kevin.
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
Convergence, a Design by Alazanto
Alazanto was Kevin Davis, our son. This design was published on January 21, 2007.
Filed under Art
Living in a Moment
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
I have dropped
most moments
onto the darkened sand,
except for a few
that I have held in my hand—
like a small child
holds your hand—
too tightly.
There I go, in secret,
into the darkened cloak
of the Great Purple Hairstreak,
getting lost among
the bright blue and yellow jewels
at the outer edge
of her wings.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
