Poems - JP Melville

  After The Fields 2021 jp melville Cold... Quiet... Bright yellow fungus on balsam logs Wolf scat with feathers Deer droppings fresh Brown water from beaver dam  overlying pond ice Forest leaves scattered flat  everywhere waiting for winter's blanket No snow to cover them all Dark now... Quieter... Wind whispers secrets around the cabin logs...

A Plastic Toy jp melville I note for a moment how the rain falls gently on the earth. I only have a moment, because, like so many I know - my friends, my family, those in passing in this world in which I live - I will soon be busy with commitments, general matters of consequence. It is morning, early, all night the rain has fallen, the sky deep grey. A moist breeze slides in the window of my studio cools my naked skin for I am shirtless, and now rain pitters on the leaves of the trees. There is a soft shush as the raindrops sink into the fields. A gust of wind, hmmm, scatters the papers on my desk, some wet comes in too, but I don't mind, dawn caressing me, why worry about dampness on my floor. The season is summer. For us that means days of heat, days of sunshine, days of rain, these months have seen good balance. Now this gentle rain, d...

Sweet Morning 1993   jp sweet humidity warmly softening all the edges of burgeoning deep green trees maple, spruce, ash, and hawthorn in the distant forest and along the tractor lanes sweet breeze blessing softly all the grasses waving thick in pasture the easy swaying clover and alfalfa blossoms the rye dancing on the hill sweet sunlight breaking over the horizon brushing over those same fields kissing the millions of shimmering leaves streaming yellow in my windows and across the floor sweet gaiety chattering softly all the sparrows and swallows and robins and dove and finch piercing whistles and tatata and dtooo dto dto dto away away in the distance a rooster crows and above the blue sky swept with strokes of white cloud...