Ann Pedone i was told that every poem was about the MOON (Three excerpts)
(1)
There is a language no one ever spoke. It has been recorded that
its words tasted of myrrh-bud and yellow
pear. Prepositions
were still covered with
moon dust. Nouns were held
together with verbs not unlike
petals to a stem. Vowels
swam in the veins of trees
thick
of sap
heavy
and
sweet.
It is said that a man who lived during the time
of Plato,
swallowed
this language
whole. He said it was easy to eat
as it
had consisted
of just one word: “bird.”
(2)
A friend of mine had just come back from Greece.
We were walking down Lexington
Avenue and he told me that the light
in New York is very
different
from the light in Athens.
When I asked him how that could be, he
laughed and said, “You’re a poet. You should
understand it better
than I do.”
(3)
It could almost be music this excess of heat
and yes spring is gathering (a promise)
the moisture of my body up into the clouds
could this be what makes the plum tree blossom
Ann Pedone graduated from Bard College in 1992 with a degree in English Literature. She has a Master’s degree in Chinese Language and Literature from UC Berkeley. Ann is the author of the chapbook "The Bird Happened." More recently her work has recently appeared in Ornery Quarterly, Unbroken Journal, Riggwelter, Main Street Rag, Poet head, and Cathexis Northwest among others. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area.