Welcome to where I am, where my kitchen's always messy, a pot's (or a poet) always about to boil over, a dog is always begging to be fed. Drafts of poems on the counter. Windows filled with leaves. Wind. Clouds moving over the mountains. If you like poetry, books, and music--especially dog howls when a siren unwinds down the hill-- you'll like it here.


MY NEW AUTHOR'S SITE, KATHRYNSTRIPLINGBYER.COM, THAT I MYSELF SET UP THROUGH WEEBLY.COM, IS NOW UP. I HAD FUN CREATING THIS SITE AND WOULD RECOMMEND WEEBLY.COM TO ANYONE INTERESTED IN SETTING UP A WEBSITE. I INVITE YOU TO VISIT MY NEW SITE TO KEEP UP WITH EVENTS RELATED TO MY NEW BOOK.


MY NC POET LAUREATE BLOG, MY LAUREATE'S LASSO, WILL REMAIN UP AS AN ARCHIVE OF NC POETS, GRADES K-INFINITY! I INVITE YOU TO VISIT WHEN YOU FEEL THE NEED TO READ SOME GOOD POEMS.

VISIT MY NEW BLOG, MOUNTAIN WOMAN, WHERE YOU WILL FIND UPDATES ON WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY KITCHEN, IN THE ENVIRONMENT, IN MY IMAGINATION, IN MY GARDEN, AND AMONG MY MOUNTAIN WOMEN FRIENDS.




Friday, February 26, 2010

KAYLA'S ASHES, by Kathryn Magendie


This piece is by Kathryn Magendie, who may be found at www.tendergraces.blogspot.com. Kat's first novel Tender Graces was published last year. She's a fine writer and a lively, lovely woman. You will enjoy her blog, so please give it a visit. Today is her birthday. Happy Birthday, Kathryn!!!!!



KAYLA'S ASHES


The mahogany box is heavy

and inside you lie in a plain plastic baggie.

Oh! I cry. Oh! You must be released,

for you do not belong inside,

but instead everywhere we walked together

in this mountain cove. I dig,

bits of you lodge into my fingernails,

you are softer and finer than I imagined,

but then what would I ever imagine but

your solid body and soft fur and big brave heart?

I let you drift through my fingers

into the wind that’s come down from

the mountain ridge, and as you drift,

sunlight filters through you so that

I see layers and layers of you

and sun and light and prisms of color

that aren’t really colors at all but memories

of color; the heaviest parts of you

fall to the ground and lie bone-white bone,

but the light of light of you hovers

in the air and dances,

dances and hovers and lingers

before all of you slowly disappears,

dissolves in the cool morning air

in the cove at Killian Knob.

I am awed, then I am alone.

Good old girl. That’s my girl,

that’s my good good old girl.


7 comments:

Vagabonde said...

This is a very tender piece. I like it. I answered your comment on my blog but in case you do not see it – I had read an article on the elephants’ sanctuary in Tennessee and kept their web page. They are located in Hohenwald, TN (don’t know where that is) but as I recall they don’t allow the public there. I also wonder what they do with the animals when it is cold in winter. Here is the link: http://www.elephants.com/.

Vicki Lane said...

Beautiful imagery... and the last two lines make me want to cry.

Kathryn Magendie said...

*smiling* thank you, Kathryn, for posting this - of course, now I am editing it in my head, going "oh, wait..." *laughing* - but, sometimes just writing what we let come out of our marrow has the most truth, huh?

THanks Vagabonde and Vicki!

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

Kathryn, I had to slenderize/poeticize your piece because the right margin kept blocking parts of words and ruining it. I hope you don't mine! I didn't want any part of it to be lost.
Vagabonde, thanks for the link to the elephant refuge. A friend of mine, wonderful artist, was able to do a painting of an elder elephant mothering an abandoned young elephant there. One of her friends worked at the refuge.
Hohenwald--good German name. A lot of folks in TN with German ancestry.
Yes, Vicki, the last two lines are so tender, aren't they?

Lyn said...

Beautiful..my journey too, light, dust, peace...but not yet!!

Jessie Carty said...

and a poet too!! what else do you do :)

Lisa Parker said...

The 'good old girl' nearly killed me! What a tender tribute to her. Nicely done.