Welcome to Shards of Silver

Marianne Moore once defined 'poetry' as "Imaginary gardens with real toads in them". I found this such a striking definition of something that captures the values of poetry that I couldn't leave it alone.

I've been writing - attempting - poetry since I knew how to hold a pen(cil). Some poems I write I like, most I don't, but every now and then I feel compelled to write them down, like a flush of emotion that demands access to some sort of visible medium that can later be accessed and reconsidered. I thought, maybe, that sharing these poems could help me out a little. I welcome critiques, critical and constructive (though I do, of course reserve the right to ignore the sharper sides of people's tongues ;) ), and hope that in return for your help I can leave you with something better than sorry attempts at a craft which only a tiny few have ever really mastered.

Clear Skies~V

Tuesday, March 30, 2010


No definitions and no strings
An instrumental duet between drummer and flautist:
Steady unbreaking and blending tone
filled with varying change.
Young and sometimes still childish the
curling melody believes herself free
but comes back again to the steady rhythms.
No demands and few questions
Just the lazy falconer holding his arm out and up:
Unthinking and generally calm
weighed against her skyborn temperment.
Wheeling she might stray far from him
but she knows and so does he
his arm is home unthinkingly.

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