Late summer samaras
litter the path ahead of me.
Time is–of course–
growing shorter. How easy
to somehow lose sight of this.
I want narrow focus
on what matters and to tarry
carefully with who matters.
However many more tomorrows
I have ahead of me, I want
all the marrow of days
left me. I want those days
used fully, sucked clean,
used up, left as bones.
Andrew Shattuck McBride
“Marrow” is my August 13th poem for the postcard poetry project. I used a contemporary card of a sunset/water view of the San Juan Islands, Washington. I mailed the card to Jennifer G. of Columbia, Missouri.
Blessings to Jennifer G. and all, Andy
this one is felt in the bones…gorgeous.
tsena, thank you so much!
Magnificent, Andy–this poem is so capacious in its attention but simultaneously “focus[ed].” And the sounds! I love how the poem juggles “samara” and “tomorrows” with “narrow” and “marrow,” plus “tarry” and “care/fully” to create delightful and complex music.
I also really liked looking up what a “samara” is! (You seem to know a *lot* about plants.)
Jennifer, thank you so much for your kind comments–I really appreciate you visiting my blog and taking the time to read and comment on my poems and other posts. I loved your comment about the sounds in this poem.
“Samara” is a word I learned from Jim Milstead. It’s one of my favorites.
OK–I had to look up “capacious”! I’m so glad you *didn’t* use “capricious” in your comment!
Thanks again, Andy
Yes, “capricious” has goats in it. Your poem has no goats. But it *does* have winged fruit! (It makes me so happy to know what to call those little seed-helicopters that spin down out of the maples.)
Aren’t samaras marvelous? There are so many different sizes, too.
There is one variety of maple with tiny pink-green samaras–my favorite!
Especially meaningful to me after visiting family, including my 91-yr-old father, with my son. Thanks!
Thank you Jilanne.
Blessings to you and your family.