Poetry
by Nancy Corson Carter
TUBING IN NEW RIVER
(for Hubie)
Beer cans rust, leather shoes crumple
Under the bridge where the farm kids dive, laughing;
Your neighbor is selling the pasture for houselots,
His hired tractors are mucking the ford.
In the shallows our suits snag and we’ve got to push;
Yet feldspar under muddy water glistens,
The garbage-eating snails intend purity;
In deep stretches, the river takes us and we dream.
That huge rock etched with lichens—
Trout spiral, mute in its shadow;
Under the great oak soon scarlet with autumn—
Hairy moss covers the rounding stones.
It’s hard to have it clear and clear, love;
I hate it when the weather turns and I get chills
Halfway home and I don’t want to walk.
You said a kingfisher lived near; I wish I’d see him . . . .
I came here with anger, but the water says “peace”;
If you can’t forget, maybe you can forgive,
So I help pile rocks to let the dammed river sing,
Plot down in the tube and stop dragging my feet.
from DRAGON POEMS
Call and Response
A 2008 study at the Carmabi Foundation in Curaçao, Dutch Antilles, found that baby corals swim toward sound made by animals on a home reef.
An October moon swells,
luminous with life
soon reflected in
Earth’s tropic waters:
her magic blue light
increases unique
protein genes that
click coral clocks ON.
Then a sperm-and-eggs orgy
of annual mass spawning
effervesces the seas
with tiny larvae;
true to long-ago coding
they swim for their lives
toward the choiring calls
of a mother reef’s refuge.
What thwarts them most
is human-made noise like
pile-driving, shipping,
seismic testing, and drilling.
Their imperiled enchantment
may give universal warning:
what saves them is song;
what they must do is listen.
from A GREEN BOUGH: POEMS FOR RENEWAL
T i n t a g e l
fabled birthplace of Arthur
In Merlin’s cave
Under Tintagel’s rock
We stand as pilgrims
In a holy place.
Deep Earth shrives us,
Swallows our misdeeds;
The booming surf
Pours absolution.
A stonestepped brook
Measures the cliffs
As we clamber
To the summit.
In the North, East,
South, and West,
Coast and sea
Dissolve in mist.
Above and below us
Gulls circle and cry;
They’re radiant as doves
In beams of sunlight.Bright gorse and daisies
Make crowns for our hair;
Among the green grasses
They weave a fine cloth.
A simple picnic
We carried in our pockets
Becomes a feast
At the Table Round.
from A GREEN BOUGH: POEMS FOR RENEWAL
Nancy Corson Carter, professor emerita of humanities at Eckerd College, has published THREE poetry books, Dragon Poems The Sourdough Dream Kit, and A Green Bough: Poems for Renewal (most recent) and three poetry chapbooks. Some of her poems, drawings, and photos appear in her nonfiction book, Martha, Mary, and Jesus: Weaving Action and Contemplation in Daily Life, and in her memoir, The Never-Quite-Ending War: a WWII GI Daughter's Stories. Website: nancycorsoncarter.com
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