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.




Thursday, December 3, 2009

FULL MOON



FULL MOON

Full moon says look I am
over the pinebreak, says give me
your empty glass, pour
all you want, drink, look
out through your windows of ice,
through the eyes of your needles
observe how I climb, lay aside
what you weave on your looms

and see clouds fall away
like cold silk from your shoulders,
be quiet, hear the owl coming back
to the hayloft, shake loose
your long braids and rise up
from your beds, open
windows and curtains, let light
pour like water upon your heads,

all of you women who wait, raise
the shades, throw the shutters
wide, lean from your window ledge
into the great night that beckons
you, smile back at me
and so quietly nobody can hear you
but you, whisper, "Here am I."

by Kathryn Stripling Byer, from BLACK SHAWL, LSU PRESS, '98

10 comments:

Julie said...

Oh, so beautiful! The poem takes my breath away, and I also love the picture. Brilliant work.

Vicki Lane said...

What a wonderful poem! And a terrific photo too!

There's something about that full moon, I think, that raises our hackles and reminds us we once were hunters...

Nancy Simpson said...

Kay, I love this poem. It's one of my all time favorites.

Last night I saw the full moon and I thought it was the most beautiful ever because it lit the fast moving clouds like a light show.

Jane said...

Lord, lord, this is why I have always loved Black Shawl so much.

Kathryn Stripling Byer said...

Thank you, Full Moon Goddesses! This is an old poem but it still feels sort of young to me. I wish I were writing this way now. Maybe I need more full moons in my life. Maybe I need to go into the woods to hung! Vicki, there's a photo by the late Sharon Anglin Kuhne, who was a friend, titled "Artemis in Winter." I hope to use it as cover for my next mt. themed book.

Joan Ellen Gage Admin said...

I loved this! I do know the feeling of being intimate with the moon. It is romantic, like the moon in Moonstruck.

Kaye Wilkinson Barley - Meanderings and Muses said...

oh my.
Takes my breath away, also.
thank you.

Nishant said...

There's something about that full moon, I think, that raises our hackles and reminds us we once were hunters...

Work from home India

Cheri L Jones said...

As a literal and wondrous reflection, Moon is the perfect inspiration - "everchanging, infinetly reliable". Once I spent a year writing moon poems, inspired by a nightly view of her rise over a small lake (pond). None of those many hold the weight of your one. Thank you.
Meanwhile, I'm loving Aretha's Hat!

Jerry Pat Bolton said...

Absolutely fantastic grouping together of words, my friend / The magic of rising the shades and throwing the shutters wide is what dreams are made of, and how dreams are fulfilled.