Amputated Moon

I have walked beside the ocean

foot steps filling with sea water

stones clap in joy beneath my feet

tickled by each receding wave

never turning my back to the sea

I have sat among the driftwood

lost and found again

white bones of once-trees

stripped bare of life

cradled in winter’s debris

never turning my back to the sea

I have rested in the dunes

sand warm as my mother’s lap

holding me close within her arms

my eyes watch the ebb and flow

serrated sea grass whispering in my ears

never turning my back to the sea

Pamela Olson, 10/3/08

the cupped hands of dusk

wrap around the fleeting light

holding it against the trees and horizon

slowly their grip relaxes

light slides through each finger

striking the clouds

golden amber streaks up

pushed by the breath of the breeze

into a darkened sky

the patient sky

the waiting earth

listening to the colors of my mind

Pamela Olson 10/2/08

This one is for Poefusion

Tuesday’s Title:  “Listening

to the colors of my mind.”

Clothed in a wrap of fog

this winter night

time is reduced — no future plans

no past remembrances

Just now

My footsteps placed within

a simple space of clarity

a pilgrim-journey along a path

narrow as a labyrinth

Just here

Forward slowly in a hush

accompanied by heartbeats

Only my breath moving in and out

caught in the mist’s net

Just here — this night

Just now

Pamela Olson

An offering for One Single Impression’s

prompt of “fleeting”

Women in Black for Justice

let us gather on a corner

dressed in blackness

oh women in silence

we are draped in stillness

deep and full

our message in our hands

our share of war to bear

women in black

our vigil lies before us

no war in our names

Pamela Olson, 9/23/08

Poem for the prompt

‘women in silence’

at Poefusion

Women in Black for Justice

wilmack's maple tree

angular light bends

down the canyon sides

washing greenness from

maple and alder leaves

phytochrome measures

shorter days—longer nights

auxins and gibberellins wane

as senescence sets in

lovely anthocyanins

and blazing carotenoids

pigments cycling with

leafy periodicity

Pamela Olson

Dedicated to my botany

professor at Univ. of Wash.

For the prompt:  Autumn

at One Single Impression

Photo courtesy of

wilmack at Flickr

there is a moment

when the crescent of the sun

falls below the horizon

and the earth gives back the light

as a luminous gift of thanks

to the sky

the earth becomes bathed

in sable and shadowy grays

deeper darkness dwells

beneath the bushes and trees

the earth flattens

into two dimensions

and the sky—the receiver of light

lies above the darkness

brilliant in teals and purples

hardened into a shellac of light

enfolding the colors of the earth

into arms outstretched in prayer

Pamela Olson, 9/20/08

Starscraper by Rick Mobbs

night has set sail

in her dark waters

her joy is the moon

her tears are the stars

she speaks in your dreams

wake now

come to my shore

my boat is empty

there is no balance

I wait for you at the dock

Pamela Olson, 9/17/08

In response to Starscraper

by Rick Mobbs

at Mine Enemy Grows Older

never mind the silent fields

stillness in the grass

wind will sigh when it travels

sending seeds aloft

for now the quiet field remains

locked in shells of gold

hanging soft upon the blades

bells of grass silently toll

Pamela Olson, 9/14/08

For One Single Impression’s prompt of

“Seeds”

Line from Poem #2

The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

edited by Thomas H. Johnson

Parting the Red Sea

water rises through the reeds

sodden leather

muddy feet

laded with slavery’s burdens

exhausted from escape

we wait on the edge

death in front of us

destruction behind us

the clatter of chariot and spear

compete with the thrum of waves

he pauses at the sea’s edge

tries to convince us to follow

follow!  can we walk on water

there is no place to go

but still he raises his hand

the same muscles and bones

as mine— both dark in the fading light

the acrid salt air burns our throats

still he urges forward into the watery wilderness

we pray— then step forward

Pamela Olson, 9/14/08

Written for the prompt

at Worship and The Arts

PCUSA