Frostwriting

Full Moon, Letting Go

by Steve Meador

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Full Moon


Grass blades rake against the tender
of my back and wield the sharpness
of youth, in aroma leaking from recent
cut tips. I look up into nothingness
that is everything and watch a full
moon waft above our winged elm.
It is the same perfect disk that 600
times ago lit my face, in Savannah,
as I released the chameleons
from a mayonnaise jar and exposed
the courage of the one that wouldn’t
run.  The same glaring fullness
that illuminated the lips of my first kiss
and traced the beauty of the human
body. The same lighted globe that
arches west until it is in the Far East,
where it will hitch a ride in a rickshaw
and return in 30 days to remind me of
the joy when I saw it last & the sadness
that there is one less lantern to enjoy.


Letting Go


We had two pups, Scout and Butch,
out of a blue tick bitch named Tip.
She had been topped by a neighbor’s black and tan,
which hadn’t been neutered by the coon after all.
Butch once clung to a pheasant’s foot,
was drug across 20 feet of thistle
before letting go.
Scout seemed a little slow,
watched the spectacle
then sniffed out a small rabbit,
pinned it with his front paws
and pulled off nearly every strand of fur,
before letting go.
The rabbit’s tissue-soft skin flushed purple,
like ironweed stem, as it wobbled into the weeds.
I thought about it years later, my sleep suffered
from the things that country kids remember,
before letting go.

Steve Meador’s book Throwing Percy from the Cherry Tree, released by D-N Publishing in 2008, has been nominated for several awards, including a National Book Award and a Pulitzer. His poetry has appeared in Stirring , Word Riot, Umbrella, Blue Fifth Review , MiPOesias, and many others. He has multiple Pushcart nominations. He lives in Florida
hangingmossjournal.com.

 

 

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