a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Tag Archives: Ethel Mortenson Davis
The Last Tiger
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
He is a great Siberian Tiger,
the last one.
They have him
in a steel cage
with thick grey bars—
there, at the center
of our town.
Sharpened sticks
lie all around him.
He has many wounds,
but there is still fire
in his eyes.
A young girl
comes to the cage,
crying and afraid.
She says,
“You must stop this now.
You must save this animal.
He is the last
of a royal species—
a sacred kind.”
She knew the combination
of the lock and opened
the cage door.
He sprang towards
the light, carrying
with him the girl’s heart.
“Go to the most northern
region of our country.
There the forests
will save and protect you.
There is still yet time.
There is still yet time
to balance God in the universe.”
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
Little Bird
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
for April Chischilly
Little bird,
with wound on her chest,
comes to my water
each day.
Other birds
push her back,
but she is steadfast and stays.
She reminds me of you.
The first sunlight
that warms my body
in the early spring
after a long, cold winter
reminds me of you.
This morning, as the red, glowing mushroom
shone out from the dark forest floor,
an orange- red like no other,
it, too,
reminds me of you.
Filed under Uncategorized
Ethel Mortenson Davis Book Named Among Outstanding Poetry Collections for 2018
The Wisconsin Library Association (WLA) gives out yearly awards for outstanding books published each year. This year Ethel Mortenson Davis’s book, Under the Tail of the Milky Way Galaxy has just been recognized as one of seven outstanding books of poetry by Wisconsin poets.
The announcement by the WLA is below:
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Published Books
Snowy Egret
a pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Art, Art by Ethel Mortenson Davis, Ethel Mortenson Davis
Swallow
pastel by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Companion Poems by Standing Feather and Ethel Mortenson Davis
Standing Feather, who, along with John Looker over in Great Britain, is one of the greatest of contemporary poets, sent a special email to Ethel Mortenson Davis the other day. He sent a poem, “Mariposa,” which is, in effect, a companion poem to Ethel’s poem, “Circles,” which was published in her book, White Ermine Across Her Shoulders” in 2011. They are both magnificent works of art. Standing Feather’s new poem is presented first, followed by Ethel’s older work:
Mariposa
New Mexico is full of dirt roads
that snake around sandstone mesas
and then straighten into vast expanses
before reaching any stop signs or pavement.
From the mesa tops you can see old trucks
rambling along the valley floor,
making dust that blows sideways
across stretching generations of rocks and people.
There is nothing like riding passenger
in an old truck, and as a child
I set the pace of my life
by Uncle Pink’s ‘66 Ford.
I knew the inner workings of the beast
from my years jockeying on the cracked leather seat.
The power of the vibrations climbed my spine
and rolled from my crown in great waves.
Youth’s wine-filled days are gone.
Today I stopped along a dirt road
to accept an invitation from the mariposa lilies.
Their power to stay rooted while waving in the spring wind
is like old trucks. Both offer rugged simplicity
to compliment the density of the rocks above.
I must be moving on. Remembering Aunt Ethel,
I crank my windows down to listen for the song of the meadowlarks.
Standing Feather 4-19
Circles
When I drive
through the desert,
I keep the windows rolled down
and usually hear a few notes
from the meadow lark.
New Mexico is full of bird life.
This morning, after last night’s shower,
I heard the clicks
of the Rufus hummingbird
through my car’s open window-
a metallic pinging sound-
like electric highline wires make
when you stand under them.
The hummingbird kisses
the delicate circuits
of the eco-systems.
In the north
the snowmobiles run
the gray wolf to exhaustion.
Once the gray wolf
was chased with dog sleds
or snow-shoes
and had a chance
to escape.
The wolf bites at his body
where the bullet enters,
shattering his flesh and bone,
shattering the delicate circles of life.
Ethel Mortenson Davis 2011
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry, Published Books
Poetry Breakfast Publishes Ethel Mortenson Davis
Poetry Breakfast, an online journal of poetry, has an international audience. One of the best poets in Great Britain, John Looker, told Ethel and I that he used to read it almost every day. Poetry Breakfast’s Editor, Ann Kestner, took off some time in a sabbatical, but now she and the journal are back. Ethel’s poem, “The Wind”, is up this morning, May 1. The link to a wonderful everyday journal and Ethel’s poem is below:
A great idea is to subscribe to the Poetry Breakfast blog and then spend breakfast every once in awhile reading out loud the poem of the day with your coffee.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, poems, Poetry
From Ancient Way in New Mexico
photo by Ethel Mortenson Davis from where we stayed during our New Mexico trip.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography
Anishinabe Warrior
Ethel Mortenson Davis’s drawing is the perfect artwork for the cover of the epic:
fourwindowspress 