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Observation

____Comes morning,
__And fog fills the forest
Where bluebirds are wet on the wings.
____The toadstools
__Are soaking up moisture,
One cricket in solitude sings.

____The fog lifts
__And drifts like a phantom;
Trees are subdued in a shroud.
____A vapor
__Descends low and lower
To hang o’er the path in a cloud.

An image of two lovers kissing
Will later emerge from the gloom.
Their secret unveils late in morning
When fog slowly fades from their “room.”

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Margaret Brinton has lived in San Diego’s inland valley area for over forty years where she taught and tutored. Her poems have recently been published in California Quarterly and Westward Quarterly and The Lyric with upcoming work in the greeting card industry.

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9 Responses

  2. Paul A. Freeman

    The things we observe in nature!

    The first two stanzas truly gallop along. The third took a bit of thought, but I got there.

    Thanks for the read, Margaret.

    Reply
    • Margaret Brinton

      Thank you Paul, and also to Roy, for your continued encouragement.

      Reply
  3. Mary Gardner

    The poem is nicely descriptive and calming, and on the page looks like the silhouette of a pine tree.

    Reply
  4. Jeremiah Johnson

    I like how the bluebirds and toadstools are actually doing/being something, and something un-cliched. I reads like you really are in the moment, observing with the keen eye of the poet!

    Reply
  5. Margaret Brinton

    Thanks Jeremiah, and also to Mary , for your favorable comments.

    Margaret Brinton

    Reply
  7. Jonathan Kinsman

    Margaret, this is not a ‘slight’ lyric but it may betray (like the fog) a slyness or sleight of perspective on your part.

    In form it is similar to the Minnesinger (German troubadour) tagelied: 3 verses in length, ending with the separation of two lovers at break of day.

    It also recalls the Provencal alba and French aubade tradition. Intended or not, the first stanza (excuse my pun) drips with sensuality, albeit subtly so.

    The Dawn comes, but Lady Love covers them with a blanket to prolong their intimacy. That is a masterful touch there, Mistress Brinton!

    They have only one way out and it is discreetly cloaked in a vapor so as to escape notice.

    You are a Troubadour, Margaret!! Keep the sleight of sense coming!! Thank you for your alba in a Teutonic cloak!

    Jonathan

    Reply
  8. Margaret Brinton

    To Jonathan , and also to Patricia

    This feedback keeps me writing! Many thanks!

    Reply

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