Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Moonburn by Marge Piercy

Full Moon, 2011
(The Full Moon is Friday, October 18)

by Marge Piercy
I stayed under the moon too long.
I am silvered with lust.

Dreams flick like minnows through my eyes.
My voice is trees tossing in the wind.

I loose myself like a flock of blackbirds
storming into your face.

My lightest touch leaves blue prints,
bruises on your mind.

Desire sandpapers your skin
so thin I read the veins and arteries

maps of routes I will travel
till I lodge in your spine.

The night is our fur.
We curl inside it licking.


A blazing yellow tree on my block taken 11-11-11.
Summer ends, and Autumn comes, and he who would have it otherwise would have high tide always and a full moon every night; and thus he would never know the rhythms that are at the heart of life. ~Hal Borland


erin said...

marion, my heart swells with all of this.

how incredible to see your world, especially your moon photograph. here the leaves are almost gone. every year i intend to somehow stand on the peak of autumn and hold it somehow - to somehow hold it - and each year i fail. it is like i wake up too late and we are days into the decline, but i have a secret, the decline is just as sweet. how i love this time of year.

i might need a reminder for friday night but at your prompt james and i make plans to go the bridge and watch the moon. last week we went with liam and watched a very orange crescent moon break on the river. where will you be, marion? will you be outside under the same moon?



Karen said...

Lovely! Thanks for this to start my day.

Marion said...

Erin, I think I may be out dancing again. You reminded me of the poem I wrote in 2009. It scares me how fast time flies:

By Marion for Erin 7/09

There was I wearing just dragonflies
in my untamed, burgundy hair.
She all glistening, robed only in river silt,
shining just as fair.
Our skin glowing uncannily
lit from within and without,
arms outstretched, heads thrown back
as we twirled and pranced about.
Faces upturned, filled with rapture as
round and round we whirled---
lost in the moonlady’s ecstasy,
entranced in our own dream-world.

Some said it were fairies dancing
up under the stars that night---
Crazed and drunk from the river reflecting
the full moon’s shimmering light.
But me and my friend know better---
t’was our spirits’ mystical meeting,
celebrating the poetry of rivers and
the feel of the full moon’s heart beating.

Marion said...

Karen, you're very welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it! xo

Kelly said...

Wonderful poem, Marion. I especially love the last two lines.

I was getting a new grandbaby the day you took that tree photo. :)

Serena said...

Oh, my God, that is gorgeous! Both the poetry and the photos. Salute!