Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Winter cattails.
I pine to paint them -
golden in winter like wheat.
I sit cross-legged on the snow
my dog sitting, too, beside me,
now as tall as I am.
We are at the delicate edge
looking into the tall and the fallen,
broken, sword and sheath leaves,
at the edge of the cattail forrest -
the tip of the iceberg -
most of the cattails grow under ground.
The stalks, like blown out torches, 
are topped with withered, 
candelwicks.

This beautiful chaos, 
an infinite criss crossing
of snow-scarfed leaves sparkles
gold, yellow, starry white,
in the sun.  A poet's, a writer's 
a composer's, a painter's dream. 
I am blissfully curious
what undying Van Gogh,
who loved walking among
and painting wheat fields,
would have written to Theo
if he could have walked among
and painted these golden
snow-scarfed, sunlit,
winter cattails.


Note:  Cattails are a wilderness food and are highly nutritious.  Please see Wikipedia for more information.


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