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Writer's pictureLola Moore

The World Around US

As fall ensues here in Elon, we wanted to share some nature poetry and photography to help relish the world around us! I hope you read these poems and can imagine the worlds described, as well as examine their deeper messaging.




October

BY ROBERT FROST

O hushed October morning mild,

Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;

Tomorrow’s wind, if it be wild,

Should waste them all.



The crows above the forest call;

Tomorrow they may form and go.

O hushed October morning mild,

Begin the hours of this day slow.

Make the day seem to us less brief.

Hearts not averse to being beguiled,

Beguile us in the way you know.

Release one leaf at break of day;

At noon release another leaf;

One from our trees, one far away.

Retard the sun with gentle mist;

Enchant the land with amethyst.

Slow, slow!

For the grapes’ sake, if they were all,

Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,

Whose clustered fruit must else be lost—

For the grapes’ sake along the wall.


PHOTO BY LOLA MOORE




Tonight, in Oakland

BY DANEZ SMITH

I did not come here to sing a blues.

Lately, I open my mouth


& out comes marigolds, yellow plums.

I came to make the sky a garden.

Give me rain or give me honey, dear lord.

The sky has given us no water this year.

I ride my bike to a boy, when I get there

what we make will not be beautiful

or love at all, but it will be deserved.

I’ve started seeking men to wet the harvest.

Come, tonight I declare we must move

instead of pray. Tonight, east of here,

two boys, one dressed in what could be blood

& one dressed in what could be blood

before the wound, meet & mean mug

& God, tonight, let them dance! Tonight,

the bullet does not exist. Tonight, the police

have turned to their God for forgiveness.

Tonight, we bury nothing, we serve a God

with no need for shovels, we serve a God

with a bad hip & a brother in prison.

Tonight, let every man be his own lord.


Let wherever two people stand be a reunion

of ancient lights. Let’s waste the moon’s marble glow

shouting our names to the stars until we are

the stars. O, precious God! O, sweet black town!

I am drunk & I thirst. When I get to the boy

who lets me practice hunger with him


I will not give him the name of your newest ghost

I will give him my body & what he does with it

is none of my business, but I will say look,

I made it a whole day, still, no rain

still, I am without exit wound

& he will say Tonight, I want to take you

how the police do, unarmed & sudden

& tonight, when we dream, we dream of dancing

in a city slowly becoming ash.


PHOTO BY LOLA MOORE




Higher Altitude

BY LOLA R MOORE

I think the mountains

Put me to sleep

Because they belong

Only in dreams.

And they know it.


So far from

These mountains

That I know so dearly,

That I picture when I close my eyes.


I wish that there

Was some way to keep them

In my pocket and under my skin

So that I can feel the ridges on my arms.


The feeling rushing through my blood

Stepping out to breathe the air full of water–

If only I was closer,

For jumping into this abyss

Would be like waking up from the dead.


PHOTO BY LOLA MOORE

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