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Robert Ronnow
Poems
Aug 2015
Undersky Sleeping, Bonekeeping
In the holy spot
with a sitting rock,
an oak. In back
yards, shagbark
hickory and maple.
Ants climb the rock.
August, birds
celebrate flowering
weeds, the seeds
of autumn to come.
I am here to name it
and know it and help it
to grow. These mountains
are my grave. A good grave
to go to.
The crows have been
in conference, again.
A jay, blue, pokes
a hole through reality.
I find sumacs fruiting
and the male *** organs
of the Queen Anneβs lace.
Dark-eyed juncos glean the lawn,
an occasional nuthatch
in the butternut.
I hear a pileated
woodpecker jackhammering
and my neighborβs skill saw
chirring. Ants crawl
on connecting interlacing instructions.
www.ronnowpoetry.com
#sleep
#grave
#true
#flower
#quiet
#holy
#sky
#***
#bones
#birds
Written by
Robert Ronnow
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