by Laura Parker Roerden I read today that a flock of seagulls was once trapped in the eye of a hurricane. The birds had sought refuge in the false calm of fair skies, but didn’t realize they now flew through a tunnel of destruction, all ways out blocked by certain devastation. Birds that sense plummetingContinue reading “A Coming Hurricane”
Tag Archives: nature poetry
A Small Poem
by Laura Parker Roerden Small things sometimes call us home, like the two birds I saw circling the hay field this morning on my way back from farm chores. Their shrill vibrating whistle, a half warning, half invitation stunned me awake from a deep dream—even though I should have been sufficiently awake from an hourContinue reading “A Small Poem”
The Garden Spider
by Laura Parker Roerden Every single evening in her short life the garden spider spins a web of concentric circles. Each anchored to five or so holdfasts, simple spokes on a wheel, against which everything hinges. Around and around she goes, adding to her work, bridging the distance from one holdfast to another, length byContinue reading “The Garden Spider”
Into the Clearing
by Laura Parker Roerden All day long I had lain in the grass and waited for the sun to reach the clearing, though it never did come. The dew from the morning had left my hair damp to the touch; my heart aching for something I had never expected to miss. I knew these woodsContinue reading “Into the Clearing”
Cosmology
by Laura Parker Roerden Something tells me you could chart the path of a heart the way a peacock raises flowers like too many moons. I saw our peacock in full bloom today and noticed the eyes in his feathers expanding like the universe; a quick shudder of his plume suggesting no boundaries to hisContinue reading “Cosmology”
A Way with Water
by Laura Parker Roerden I have always thought rocks uncommonly beautiful, none the less when I notice one along the river move: a long neck gracefully emerging from the mottled grey mound now pointing towards the river. It’s only in the refection in the water that I realize that what I have before me isContinue reading “A Way with Water”
The Space Between Here and There
by Laura Parker Roerden The reeds are awakening in a dawn of haloed light. Morning has risen and is lined by low tide at the edge of the marsh, where gulls are already signaling I am late; late to the riotous exposure of mussels and clams and polychaete worms; late to the stars that have somehowContinue reading “The Space Between Here and There”
Pelagic Water
by Laura Parker Roerden Go to open ocean, I heard, as I had spent too much time struggling on the edges in the surf. There is only one way to climb out of the grave of a riptide; all lifeguards know this. You must swim parallel in deeper water. You must give up the safetyContinue reading “Pelagic Water”
The Right Whale
by Laura Parker Roerden I’ve heard tales of how they once came close to Cape Cod by the hundreds, a thick layer of blubber enough to insulate for cold, yet insufficient against spears. When dead, they bobbed on the surface like a cork. Or started to decompose as gases expanded flesh like a bloated Macy’s ThanksgivingContinue reading “The Right Whale”
The Quest
by Laura Parker Roerden You can find just about anything you could dream in an ocean. Tiny horses holding on by prehensile tails to flat vines that float upwards and shimmer in sunlight like cities. Red squid that fly with vampire wings and shoot out light orbs to stun predator or prey. A flat rayContinue reading “The Quest”