Wild Plums

Wild Plums In This Clever, Heartfelt Collection Of Poems, Barbara Conrad Celebrates The Unreal Of What Is Real A Dead Father Entering A Coffee Shop, An Old Lover On Bended Knees, Cedar Waxwings In The Guise Of Wild Fruit Whether The Focus Is Time, Colors, Words, Nature, Social Issues Or Personal Relationships, The Whole World Seems To Spin And Startle In These Lyrical, Yet Accessible Creations

Is a well-known author, some of his books are a fascination for readers like in the Wild Plums book, this is one of the most wanted Barbara Conrad author readers around the world.

❮Ebook❯ ➧ Wild Plums  Author Barbara Conrad – Ultimatetrout.info
  • Paperback
  • 96 pages
  • Wild Plums
  • Barbara Conrad
  • English
  • 22 May 2017
  • 9781938853104

7 thoughts on “Wild Plums

  1. says:

    We are the publisher, so all of our authors get five stars from us Excerpts I KEPT MEANING TO TELL YOUABOUT THE KINGFISHER AT THE CREEK TODAYThe one roosting on a dead treeby the stone bridge, firstI had ever seen, much less startled,the way he jack hammeredmy ears with his rude stutter, banked a 180,striping the air between us with slate blue ribbons.But all day there were interruptions.Does a thought ever flutter like feathersin your head, imagined as conversation,its words and rhythms worked and re workedon your tongue until you can tastethe message in your mouth Images, inflections, each noun, verb,appositive phrase crafted, their anticipated tonemellow as an old Billie Holiday, until by mid dayyou re not sure if you ve sung them or not.Maybe the words don t matter anyway,reality being not that blue clay poton the kitchen counter next to the crossword,but the image of yourself molding wet mud,your arms spattered, loose rotations of your bodyas you lean into the wheel s orbit.Can t you tell how all day todayI ve seemed a little off kilter How at the creekI must have seen something a kingfisher,for instance lift easily from its perch,flash me a copper eye,circle up into its own riddle SNORKELING THE BIG ISLAND for my daughtersHow limp we re becomingin the warm salt broth, our muscles lollinglike spent seaweed.For a little while now, we ll not claim the constellationbeneath us Blues, yellows and reds will dart and nibble at coralwe dare not touch,unconscious of the colors we ve assigned themor the names trunkfish, yelloweye tang, sabre toothed blenny or dominion.We glance back Below us a sea turtlelifts her great green weight off the sand Nimble acrobat,she rises to the surface, snaps a beak full of what we ve cometo call our air, returns her ancient bulk downward, unfettered.For millions of yearsmyths have named her Honu Kauila Great Mythical Mother.Always, she s carried the world on her back We float untilwe can float no Unfolding, we remake ourselveslong and awkward, crawl onto rock ledges, plod across crevices,unmistakably evolved.

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