November 16, 2011

Still by Carol Lynn Stevenson Grellas

There beyond the chilly glass
you wait−your body broken

on the garden’s floor, your wings;
unfolded emblems upon

the ground. What happened
tiny thing? What became

of your past flight? Was
no one there to hail your

glory, to open the sky or let you in?
Did you hear a secret from

within that dimmed your light
or was another passing through clouds; 

the one who stole your breath? I can almost
stand the vision of your upturned body,

the view of you head smashed against
long cracked pavement from too many

who’ve flown before you. Was your dream
scattered among the eucalyptus tree,

an undone song, a sound only the unseeing
won’t hear? But your feathers strewn

about the tumbled leaves like little whispers
before your breathlessness began…

that’s the part I can hardly stand.


Carol Lynn Stevenson Grellas is a six-time Pushcart nominee and a 2010 Best of the Net nominee. She is the author of seven chapbooks with her latest collection of poems: Epistemology of an Odd Girl, newly released from March Street Press. She lives in the High Country, near the base of the Sierra Foothills. According to family lore, she is a direct descendent of Robert Louis Stevenson. www.clgrellaspoetry.com

No comments:

Post a Comment