You could never run your fingers through these woods.
Oaks are being strangled by the honeysuckle vines, flood
struck timbers beg to trip what runs, the mulch is as thick
as pride. Only winter tells you this. In her bareness every
curvise bend of bark has signed its name against another
living thing, as if infringing were the sin, or hell, of plants.
And plenty there is, although even half choked by some
thing else, life thrives. Only the cedars come off as saints,
in their chubby evergreen, so perfectly shaped. Now and
then one will try its way across a power line and lose its
handsome form. Driving by you almost wish they'd cut it
to the ground. The thicket has its shade, summer forgives
almost everything, but under high wires, reaching isn't
permitted. Anything stemming perilous voltages martyrs
growth itself. Linemen understand the will to live but being
keepers of the spark, they must hold cedars in check.

dw/06

I really enjoyed this one, but then I grew up in country that was heavily wooded with cedars, and I could smell them as I read this.

Anything stemming perilous voltages martyrs /
growth itself.

What a line! Very nice. The poem does well to mimic the thickness of a forest.

I agree with Grant. Wonderful rhythm-- short, almost abrupt sentences and clauses that make the reader feel the cedars being 'kept in check.' My only objection was to 'handsome form'... it strikes me as a bland expression that was out of place in a collection of such lively images. In any case, brilliant work you've done here, not surprisingly =)

-Oleksa 

Des, I like this because it reminds me of that odd feeling you get when you see beautiful trees trimmed back for power lines.  It's like thinking--surely the trees are more important.

good job,
cheryl

This is a lovely marriage of language and observation.  Pickin it.

Rick

I was challenged this go-around to read through nearly two months of poems in search of this week's Front Page, and I narrowed my selections to five by last night. 

When I reread Desiree's rhythmic chant to cedars, it seemed to be a call for the return of spring (or maybe that's my hopeful interpretation) after being stuck in a long winter.

Tim

congrats, Desiree! thanks to Tim (and SL) for putting this in front of my eyes. tom

Glad to see this back!