http://coosacreek.org/amputated poetry, nature, writing (all writing is the property of the writer and should be considerd copywritten) Thu, 18 Feb 2010 22:42:30 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en the scimitar smile floats above the dark shoulder of the horizon   briefly it disappears behind a tree, behind a house   only to appear again-- joyous light in the darkness   oh, shall I rest my head on night’s touchstone shall I lock my eyes on the moon’s smile   this winter night is dark and clear easy to get lost in   only ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/02/18/nights-touchstone/ soft singular sigh moves the leaves of the aspen     the trembling remains     Pam Olson, 2/7/2010   For One Single Impression’s prompt, “single”   For Haiku Bones’ prompt, “breath” http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/02/07/what-remains/   ah, the sky laid bare her ermine coat gathered around her feet   her beauty—strong and simple floods the river until it overflows its banks   Pamela Olson, 1/25/2010   For One Single Impression’s prompt, “sunny days”   Photo – Demopolis, Alabama http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/01/25/disrobed/ a kiss on your cheek silvered surface of the pond peace rests within you   Pamela Olson, 1/24/2010   For Haiku Bones’ prompt, “peace” http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/01/24/simply-peace/ winter dreams arrive passing through deep chaos streaming along cold currents compelled by rushing energy   here is the dream of the daughter a room with a bed and an old woman the daughter takes the woman into her arms holding her:     holding her   here is the dream of the mother a young woman stands before her the mother presses her ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/01/17/winter-dreams/ in my open palm rests the fallen leaf:  trembling freedom begins now   Pamela Olson, 1/12/10   For Haiku Bones’ prompt, “trembling” http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/01/12/trembling/ I have fished the Sound the boat rocking along the waves driven northward by surface currents with dogfish caught on my line while salmon glide away   I have fished the Sound drawing the rough-bodied sharks up and out of the water my fingers linger on their skin fins splayed like wings   I have no use for dogfish so I cut them ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2010/01/07/i-have-fished-the-sound/ Outside the window, the hawk sits wing feathers rising and falling in a breeze he has not answered the goose’s singular cry                 south—south!   The Japanese maple has lost its leaves to the shortening of the day’s light and fatal wind gusts blowing in cold and brisk                 always from the north.   The oaks in the back of ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2009/11/30/migration/ Come slowly--- Eden lies behind us in the dusk dimmed by tears slowly the pathway winds along the barren hillsides   Come slowly--- Eden is forever lost dawn is waiting caught and bound by the horizon drops of light fall on your face   Come slowly--- Eden is simply a story now you and I will find a river plant our stolen seeds along its ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2009/11/15/resurrection/ the sun’s opulence slides through the sky staining and pockmarking the maple leaves sycamores flaunt bright smooth trunks while they throw down their leaves-- littering the ground   the river flows full against its red banks a summer of rainy days – downpours and drizzles but the afternoon sunlight cannot lie it cuts sharply through the atmosphere   autumn arrives ... http://coosacreek.org/amputated/2009/11/07/latitude/