What Makes the Grizzlies Dance by Sandra Alcosser
June and finally the snowpeas
sweeten in the Mission Valley.
High behind the numinous meadows
lady bugs swarm, like huge
lacquered fans from Hong Kong,
like the serrated skirts
of blown poppies,
whole mountains turn red.
And in the blue penstemon
grizzly bears swirl
as they gaily bat the snaps
of color against their ragged mouths.
Have you never wanted to spin like that
on hairy leathered feet
amid the swelling berries
as you tasted a language
of early summer? Shaping
the lazy operatic vowels,
cap racking the hard-shelled
consonants like speckled
insects between your teeth,
have you never wanted
to waltz the hills
like a beast?
2 comments:
Love reading new poems
I have come rather late in life to poetry. It was Mary Oliver's poetry that gave me that "This speaks to me!" moment. I've only just found Sandra Alcosser. Glad you enjoyed it.
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