Meadowlark

The inspiration for “Meadowlark” comes in two parts. First, the poem was written during the Tupelo Press 30/30 Project, where a handful of poets, including myself, were tasked to write a poem a day for 30 days. Secondly, “Meadowlark” was one of many poems that centered around a dark period I experienced after the death of my mother. It speaks to isolation and the need to connect with others, externally, in order to deal with what was happening internally. Ultimately, though, the poem is hopeful, speaking to the need for resilience when things seem their bleakest.

Little thief—
breast aflame with morning sun—
bring fire from Heaven
and light cracked paths
underfoot
by grace of your fleecy
abduction.
Divine is your song
that rings bravely
from the treachery of
frozen treetops
and crackle of telephone lines.
How sweetly you sing,
little Prometheus,
from cold comforts of home—
your dirt clods,
your crags
and dark moon—
joining me
note for note
in mortal reverie.
Walk with me for an hour…
a minute…
a second more,
through winter-torn fields
of slumber
and withering brown.
Let’s pierce the air
and earth
with futile stabs (words)
before nightfall pulls us
away
by crescent yolks
‘round our necks.
But, before you go,
sweet meadowlark,
remember to tell the eagle,
“’til tomorrow.”