GRANITE
by Elizabeth Spragins
Granite
a stream of pebbles
trickles down the fractured face—
rivulets of rain
tug an acorn from its tomb
deep within the wrinkled rocks
~Mount Desert Island, Maine
Jewels
daybreak polishes
dew drops pearled on linden leaves
with emerald fire
iridescent damselflies
dance the darkness from my heart
~Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden, Richmond, Virginia
Shooting Star
fingers of a breeze
sweep the strings that tether stars—
silver serenade
that blazes in the blackness
kindles balefires* in my bones
~Fairbanks, Alaska
*Large open-air fires that serve as beacons or celebratory elements
Mourning Band
the snake encircles
limbs that cradle unfledged young—
a ribbon of black
burns the arm of her husband
as his fist pounds blood-red clay
~Appomattox Court House, Virginia
Avalanche
the mountain shudders
and rolls a restless shoulder
weary of winter
ice bears* unfold rumpled sheets
of the fragile frozen seas
~Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, Alaska
*Polar bears
About the Author:
Elizabeth Spencer Spragins is a poet, writer, and editor who taught in American community colleges for more than a decade. Her tanka and bardic verse in the Celtic style have been published in England, Scotland, Canada, Indonesia, India, Mauritius, and the United States. Recent work has appeared in the Lyric, Rockvale Review, Blueline, Halcyon Days, Page & Spine, and flash & cinder. Publication updates are available on her website: www.authorsden.com/elizabethspragins.