L'aura del Campo

Caleb at the New Moon

Caleb at the New Moon

Toes wiggle in soft clay mud;
grass brushes heels, tickles ankles;
new roots push deep.

Feet planted in the family plot,
eyes gaze at starlight far above;
arms open to accept their greeting.

By the New Moon
Caleb seeks nourishment
from rock, rain and warmth;
to the hoot of an owl,
dances his own song.

At first light,
his hair captures orange rays of fire.
Bewitched by his radiance,
day dawns.

And Caleb turns four.

© Kåre Enga 2010-07-04 [167.131]



Caleb McPike turns 4 this July. I'm trying to write a poem to send to his dad... Thought it was working, not so sure now. But better to post now and work on it this week...



More Richard Hugo. "The Art of Poetry" is a very good poem. Sad, but good.

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