Seduction

POSTED IN contemporary poetry July 16, 2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seduction

Beckoning cliff’s
wind-raked tip
edges against sky so blue it
sings.  Stone jigsaw at the base.
A whistle of wind
shoots fog up the cliff
like smoke from sudden fire.
I want to dislodge heavy feet from earth,
break into tiny pieces, disperse
on wind with the fog, spread out
across sky, embrace it
with endless arms, going all those
places nature has been
tugging at my sleeves, whispering
in my face, gathering me up
in woody tendrils and
fat vaporous arms of clouds,
pushing, pulling,
insisting that I go.
Nature inhales me, and I sail off.

 

Teresa McNeil MacLean