Nov 17 09: Moving

November 18, 2009 § 3 Comments

First, let me say that all of  you are way too nice. (Don’t get me wrong – please keep it up.) And your consistent support, even on my bad days, is more appreciated that I can express.  

Second, here’s another damn poem. The prompt? A “slow poem.”



Move your head slowly to the right,
says the yoga man. Cautiously,
I lower my chin – my neck feels stiff,
a brittle trunk. Its amber muscles
clench in alarm. It doesn’t want to move,
this sturdy carrier, this fossil of my being.  
I tilt my nose upwards – slightly –
towards the sun he asked us
to imagine. The sun makes me live,
I think, it warms my leaves and
roots. I hear a creak and snap, a rustle
near my heart and quickly
return to my resting place. A warm hand
lights briefly on my shoulder.
Move, yoga man says, move.


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§ 3 Responses to Nov 17 09: Moving

  • Vicki says:

    “this fossil of my being” – I love that Pamela! Oh the ballet moves of gracefully maturing…or in other words getting older.
    Somehow, you took the angst away and we moved right along with you.
    Lovely Pamela…simply lovely!


  • Neil Reid says:

    Oh Pamela, you break my heart with this one! Maybe I don’t mean break. Maybe I mean open. This poem is both so physical and personal (but aren’t you usually?) and I can feel every move, every bend, every breath. This poem makes outside, inside!

    I think, I suspect, you have a certain gift in expression of the physical (not just this one poem I mean). Whether it be all comfortable, or not, your poems have a way of making that more open to see. Maybe, when your current month-prompt is complete you might look some at doing your own focus that way – about the body. Might be exciting to see!

    • Thanks, Neil. I do like writing about the physical, but I never thought about it that way. I may take you up on your suggestion. When this is finished, I’m rejoining Read Write Poem, so maybe there’s some work I can do on it there.

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