Saturday, March 9, 2013

A Poem by Emily Strauss

Hiking the Storm

On the cliff, blackberry bushes tumble
Down the gash cut by winter run-off
While clouds fill the void below
Waiting to catch the falling fruits.

The cries of swallows rise from the rock
Face, wings beating against the air
Currents, the wind licks the edges
Of the crumbling limestone like
Needles in a smoke stack, tears
The vines off their moorings, dashes
Green berries against nervous mothers
Vainly pulling fledgling chicks
From beneath the rock ledges

As the storm tears bits of oak leaves
grinds them with rotten acorns
And throws them at the base of the cliff.
I hike with my head down.

Emily Strauss has an M.A. in English, but is self-taught in poetry. More than 80 of her poems appear in public online and in anthologies. The natural world is her framework; she focuses on the tension between nature and humanity, using concrete images to illuminate the loss of meaning between them.

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