One day last winter while the wind screamed outside I sat down and started writing, before I knew it four hours had passed. I decided to try my hand a writing a poem about the wind, and submit it to the Palmer Arts Council’s 2010 poetry anthology Voices Between Mountains. A few weeks later I re-read the poem and sent it off. The theme is; Walking the Land-The Water, The Wilderness, I am pleased to announce that my poem The Matanuska will be published, read and enjoy!
The Matanuska
by Gail Niebrugge ©
Cold, dry, northerly Matanuska mistral rules winter,
copse thicket bending snapping, timberland writhing
flinging dead limbs like javelins through the air.
The howling gusting din shatters silence, rattles window
panes lifting shingles as pitch increases, doors vibrate,
large glass spans flex bending sometimes breaking.
Airborne snow grains sting like nettles, blowing frigid
sapping moisture, desiccating warmth, penetrating
invisible fissures stealing heat, supple becomes brittle.
Almost rhythmic intensity grows, sound dominating,
suddenly quiet a reticent hush lulling innocent, trusting,
into betrayal as the torrid Matanuska returns full force.
Endless days of wind wear on nerves, polish lake ice,
weaken aging woods, scour paint, loose coverings rip
sailing skyward ending tangled, entwined, scattered.
Seemingly mindless roaring gales play a dual role,
wreaking havoc in its path, eroding bluffs shifting soil,
spreading seeds, culling forests killing weak, sparing strong.
Cold, dry northerly Matanuska mistral balances nature,
forests regenerate decayed rich mulch, glacier sediment
metamorphose into fertile soil, transient seeds germinate.
The death of turbulence leaves a wake of shredded fences,
shattered signs, trees adorned with plastic bags, pride rebuilds,
repairs, exterminates litter until the tempest blows again.
Congratulations, Gail. Every phrase paints a picture.
Thanks Noella!