wire//less

.

cuddled in a blanket on the couch,
striped pajama pants,
checked blouse (in her favorite blue),
she eats an orange
the bolivian way,

on the voltage wires, outside,
puffed up in their feather gown,
a row of birds, not close enough
to keep each other warm,

clouds hang deep & life

is much about
these tiny moments,

& i watch her for a while
over the rim of my computer,
how she tends her farm
with one hand in an iPad game

while i inhale the day
as if it was the first or last &
wonder where they go,

spreading wings, stirred
by an unheard call &
i sink deeper in my chair

“your cows are doing good–?”

she smiles and sucks the
last drops of sweet orange juice
with eager lips, some-

days we all fly somewhere,
& somedays we stay,
wrapped feather-warm in fall/ing moments,
the wire

underneath our feet feeling safe

.

Joes Hesch will be tending the OpenLinkNight bar at dVerse today… come, write a poem and join us for another poetic party…doors open at 3pm EST

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79 responses to “wire//less

  1. oh! i love this, Claudia!

    “puffed up in their feather gown”

    and especially the last stanza and the warmth throughout!

    beautiful!

  2. smiles…love the little moment with your daughter…and those moments do slip fast away from us, cant believe i have a double digit son…where did that go? love the change of perspective with the wire and then the come back to it in the end as well claudia…

  3. Yes indeed, life is much about these tiny moments. I especially like these lines, Claudia:

    “some-

    days we all fly somewhere,
    & somedays we stay,
    wrapped feather-warm in fall/ing moments,
    the wire

    underneath our feet feeling safe”

    So true…some days we want to be out in the world adventuring, and some days we are very happy to stay warm and safe at home.

  4. these ARE life’s best moments… the ones that slip by unnoticed unless we stop and pay attention. this poem does just that, and i love it.

  5. This is a wonderfully warm peek into a moment. I love how you draw us into feeling the cold outside by telling us about the birds all fluffed up and trying to keep warm and then bring us into that warmth through being dressed in PJ’s and under a blanket. Love the detailed imagery in all of this Claudia.

  6. it does seem a bit of a tightrope most days, doesn’t it? i like the craziness in a way, but the staying safe days too & your poem conveys that nice homey sort of feeling with just enough edge to make one savour every slow move, every nuance while the lull lasts… love “wrapped feather-warm in fall/ing moments”

  7. Loved the warmth of watching the little girl comfortable in pajamas and playing Farmville (at least I think it is … cows?) lol All in all a heart warming piece!

  8. I always appreciate how your descriptions are like ribbons that tie the disparate elements in your piece together – bits of color across the canvas as it were — speaking to each other – wirelessly!

  9. I love the simplicity of this cosy moment…the unmatched jammies.. the wire, the bird…but what the devil is eating an orange the Bolivian way? Doesn’t really matter that much..cuz the orange is part of the that juicy intimacy. Lovely, Claudia!

  10. The last line makes the whole poem vibrate with music and light, before the storms of life close in.

  11. When I inhale, it is as if …the last–grin!
    Claudia, I admire and love the way some like you–the expert in this– observe a few moments of anything, and write something nice and tight and “can’t put it down” kinda thing.

    And yes, most of my cows doing good–we need a couple for the winter’s meat..a hog, too! Between you and Brian, who studies who’s styles of writing? Probably both and each! It IS ALL GOOD!
    PEACE!

  12. “while i inhale the day
    as if it was the first or last &
    wonder where they go,”

    lovely lines Claudia, reminds me of my youngest grand today, 2 months, who took the time to stop sucking and give me one of her first smiles… the sweetness worth every moment we have with them.

  13. Lovely Claudia, “eats an orange/the Bolivian way” reminds me of Tom Waits: “walking Spanish down the hall”

  14. A very pretty poem, Claudia – with a sweet (but not sentimental) homey feel – the sense of the wild and the return and the feathering of a nest for a short while. k.

  15. My heart is beating slowly now, to the tempo of serenity. This gave me such a warm feeling, though at the same time, it reminded me of such moments when I looked at my daughter, while I cherished her feathers in the house, knowing she would soon need to fly. Lovely write Claudia.

  16. each day, the first or last, and some days flying off, while others staying put

    it’s such a nice dance you paint of our days claudia, thank you ๐Ÿ˜‰

  17. Besides the beautiful and tender moments, the matriarchal marrow, [how lucky your daughter is to be the recipient of such love], but I was struck by the undertones, the fatigue, the work day, the mindless rut, and was doubly pleased that my retirement no longer has those kind of days for me.

  18. Beautiful, Claudia. It oozes everything that is good and warm and comforting about home and family. And I second what Other Mary said: Cherish those moments. You’ll blink and they’ll be gone, living only in your memory

  19. I felt so bad for the birds not realizing the strength of staying close to save heat.
    Especially when I thought of the last stanza — it reminded me of that which is missed.

  20. Wire//less
    [Note:I read your title first and then typed the word…Wire//less]

    “some-
    days we all fly somewhere,
    & somedays we stay,
    wrapped feather-warm in fall/ing moments,
    the wire
    underneath our feet feeling safe…”

    I โค your [very] descriptive poetic words…as you sit and observe…an orange being eating by someone[*winks*] who favorite colour is bleue and birds on a wire… too!

    Thanks, for sharing!
    deedee ๐Ÿ™‚

  21. ” while i inhale the day as if it was the first or last & wonder where they go,”

    There is a wonderful closeness here even with the spaces between. Even the first and last days are joined in the timelessness of the moment.

  22. This is my favorite: “some-
    days we all fly somewhere”

    I like your weaving of the two kinds of wires beneath feet and your references to times changing while somehow staying the same.

  23. somedays we all fly somewhere & somedays we stay, wrapped feather-warm in fall/ing moments, the wire underneath our feet feeling safe…..loved it, much about tiny moments…so true! much happiness and stillness in those lines…

  24. I like the contrasts here:
    “a row of birds, not close enough
    to keep each other warm”
    contrasts with the warmth of the mother’s feelings and the closeness of the child. And the danger suggested by the “voltage wire, outside” is transformed by “and somedays we stay…the wire underneath our feet feeling safe.”

  25. “while i inhale the day
    as if it was the first or last &
    wonder where they go,”

    yeah, just yeah, thats what i want to know too.

    how did i miss this? acually i think know how i missed this (i updated all my mircosoft suff… with their latest “chaos” package, and im still trying to put it all back together)

    i can feel your joy, and your trepidation in this, that ever-present mix as we watch our young ones go “wireless”. very well express claudia, so glad i finally found this.