A Walk In Early April Poem by Daniel Brick
A Walk In Early April
Against the sun-wall of air
the birds disguise themselves
as their own shadows,
before settling invisibly among the leaves.
A medley of songs pours from the tree screen.
Was that blink of blue a blue-jay?
That flash of red a cardinal?
Nothing lasts long enough
in April to be certain.
Green claims the landscape, but gray
bark still covers a leafless tree: Is it dead,
or a late bloomer? The tiny leaves
of a willow press its branches
down toward the pond's surface.
Will heavier leaves soon
dip those branches into the water?
Or will they hover like Tantalus's lips
just above the pond all summer long?
A black dog parallels my steps,
barking fiercely and lunging at me,
but she does not cross the lawn's edge.
Her bite is certainly worse than her bark,
but I have no fear. When I fan
my fingers into a wave good-bye, she hops
in a circle, no longer barking or lunging.
Disarmed by my quiet lack of threat,
she slips back into her proper role as pet.
to spend time inspiring me. So I took a notebook and took a walk in my neighborhood, determined to write my first spring poem with whatever I observed on this walk. You just read the results...
BTW If you see my muse, tell her I need her back home pronto - there's work we have to do!
It's like saying When I sent the signals from my brain through my nervous system to begin the process of waving etc......it's too much and it doesn't work. No longer barking or lunging doesn't work either, repetitiion can be a boon or a bane in poetry, in this case, it's the latter. Find anoter way to say it, think AROUND the concept, think about ways to imply things or say things without really saying them, this is what separates poetry from mere note taking!
Will heavier leaves soon dip those branches into the water? Or will they hover like Tantalus's lips just above the pond all summer long?
Many thanks dear Daniel, for sharing this amazing moments has been captured by the inspiration of your wonderful pen, in the first 2 stanzas we are very close to the nature and can read the languages of things in that lovely April, with very strong and deep poetic feeling, even some times we are leaping into the world of the philosophy as well, well done for this nice form and theme you have used here, it deserves 10 as usual, with kind regards
Fascinating poem admiring spring as if a jungle. Everywhere is a vibrant activity- colors which surface strike the poet as various kinds of birds, while trees take on a kind of suspense in their relationship with the pond- hovering, touching. I experience a jungle in which a dog becomes a kind of mundane withdrawal back to reality. Excellent poem.
Even our beloved poet Wordsworth would have felt jealous about the great and beautiful poem you could write, let alone people like me who often try to succeed in such attempts. A heartfelt thanks and congratulations for the poem being picked up a member POTD. 10+++++++
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:40:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I am jealous of your talents. Ignore the trolls.
Dude, look at your like to dislike ratio. You have nothing to be but jealous. Your poems are uninspiring in tone, writing, and creativity. No one takes you seriously as an artist on this site.
You're a joke on this site, Kurt. You are a nice SJW, but a sh177y writer. It's why I am glad people like Brian and Gene are here.
I appreciate your honesty.