Amputated Moon

Bring me the sunset in a cup,

            claret-clear and constant;

and pull down the whispered-white clouds,

            wrap them on my shoulders.

Round the stars sprinkled in the dusk,

            baubles within your hand;

lay them around my narrow wrist,

            a bracelet filled with light.

These gifts will be your best response

            to my unsaid desires,

which lie sharp-edged between us two

            in the gathering night.

Pamela Olson, 4/30/08                      

Emily Dickinson’s line, “Bring me the sunset in a cup”

is the prompt at Poefusion.

patterns carefully played out

along the shoreline

beside the rip currents

and the sea stacks

waves thrumbing

in slow bass strokes

tumbling closer toward

intentional furrows and ridges

the meaning is clear

to show you a lesson in futility

Pamela Olson, 4/29/08

This poem was written for the picture

and word prompt at Two for Tuesdays.

it was not silence

for the mourning dove called

and the trees whispered within their leaves

telling of the changes to come

it was not loneliness

for we held hands as

you and I walked in the field

toward a still pond

it was not want

for what more could I have

beside home, family, friends,

food, and meaningful work

and yet the silence between us

apparent and real

the loneliness and want

cry out with each footstep

how can we be something

for each other when

we are not that for ourselves

Pamela Olson, 4/28/08

This poem was written in response to a prompt at Poefusion.

one white bloom arrives

among spent-blossoms and leaves

as April departs

Pamela Olson, 4/27/08

This haiku was written for the prompt

“Flowering” at One Single Impression.

the light in the sanctuary is dim

blues and shadows play

as the flickering votives are lit

alone without distractions

I call out to the Holy

echoes and light

splinter around the cross

wheels and wings in the air

as the world around

molders in want and need

you alone remain in the end

word that punctuates silence

Pamela Olson, 4/25/08

This poem was written using

the Friday Five prompt from Poefusion.

– after a line in Kazim Ali’s poem “Sleep Door”

I am the star map tonight

hold me up to the moon’s light

take note of my marks

space coordinates

nebulae, galaxy, quasar

I will guide you in the darkness

past the layered atmosphere

trapping the heat of life

past the silent moon

circling forever in her phases

lessening then growing

over and over again

past the far flung asteroid belt

where one carries my child’s name

past the icy lump we call false-planet

follow me into the universe

where only you and I will remain

Pamela Olson, 4/23/08

the black and white photo

is resting in black corner holders

in a leather-bound book

I found it among the bits

and pieces of my mother’s life

as I helped her down-size

the laundry hangs on the line

moving in the breeze that blows

from the Rockies in the west

in the background lies the prairie

full of grass and planted wheat

mostly of the winter variety

just outside of the picture

stands a woman dressed in a long skirt

simple blouse and three children

she whispers to the children

in her soft-accent

her hair tied up on the top of her head

she gazes past the laundry on the line

past the short-grass prairie flatness

past the horizon and back to her home

Pamela Olson, 4/22/08

This was written in response to the prompt and picture from

Easystreet Prompts.

sea and sky are one

            blue and blue

            lost in each other

            water and air

            kiss in mist

differences dissolve

Pamela Olson

This poem is in response to the

prompt “colors” at One Single Impression.

The place I want to get back to

echo and shadow

whispered in winter

the steps in the snow

lead around and around

a place called want

dust of snow

in a disused graveyard

again, the fields

in your absence

between brightness and weight

I broke a sheaf of light

Pamela Olson, 4/19/08

This found poetry was written for prompt #13 at Poefusion.

Each line is the title of a poem

by the following poets (in order of

appearance):  Mary Oliver, Li-Young Lee,

William Stafford, Jill Osier, Robert Frost,

Robert Frost, Natasha Threthewey, Judith Harris,

Kevin Goodan, and A.R. Ammons

Let me sit on the narrow stair,

Not very high or low, just where

My beating heart can slow its pace.

There is waiting in this place.

Wandering through the day and night,

Between dark’s boundary with light;

The past and future interlace.

There is waiting in this place.

While I rest on this gentle slope,

A weary wait turns into hope.

Fear will vanish without a trace,

For there is waiting in this place

Pamela Olson

A Kyrielle for The Miss Rumphius Effect prompt.