The four lovelies of my December
2nd Place for Poetry
Anebel Brinkmann The Four Lovelies
The four lovelies of my December
Occurred simultaneously
Like the impulse of a spark
Number one:
A tree, a skeletal, beckoning, haunting tree
Two crows, two black as night, sage crows
One crow
Falls through winter sky
Surely plummeting to death
Pennipotenticide
Falling, in close pursuit is the ember of a nut
Beak almost meeting asphalt
Bird stops
Nut doesn’t
Clever, astute birdie! You will eat well tonight.
It would have not been a lovely
Had the other bird not been so passive
Number Two:
The single Douglas fur branch in the road
A memento to the holiday gone wrong
It would not have been a lovely
Had the branch,
Instead of drooping with sorrow from it’s separation
Had been so ebulliently green
Number Three:
The road I had not seen
Deviating from predestined highway
To snake into the maternal woods
Reminiscent of Thoreau
Quite philosophical
For a gravel road
It would not have been a lovely, had I seen it once before
Number Four:
The perfection of an S craved into the sidewalk
Symbolizing sadism superbly, sufficiently, simply
The imprint of a fragile baby snake
Too small for it’s reputation of evil
It would not have been a lovely
If it had been a C
I suppose the fifth lovely is that I was able to see them
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