October 2015 ~ Helen Hagemann

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Through a Litany of Filtered Light

Through a Litany of Filtered Light

When it comes to nature
there is no half measure,
no illusion or suggestion.
You follow kangaroos, ducks,
bobtails, the weed choke on deadwood.
You enter fragility, old ghost trails,
settler's huts, cold granite
– that other world –
through a litany of filtered light.

Nature sways you to spring,
to look eye-to-open-bud

your breath passing over the lilac
of fringe lilies, plush cat's paws.
And how to proceed while others
choose to speak? Everyone knowing
you're an amateur will walk away.
You know it's guesswork and pivot
from the group, finding sights and
sounds as evidence for a poem.
You have come to this world
in deep thought,

saying nothing,
except
the day's walk is variously selected
for this –
camera lens
taking words to the page
as if they mean something.

Field Trip ©

Field Trip

I sit in the kitchen
surrounded by books, manuscripts.
I read a poem each day, especially Collins
and I'm instantly inspired.

I have a selection of poetry books
surrounding the table, a container of pens,
weekend notes, Gillian Welsh, mellow
on CD player, and coffee, cooling.

I have other things: council papers,
a synopsis half-written, dictionary,
thesaurus, books on wildflowers,
native plants, and suburban birds.

But I have had enough of that –
the isolation of creation on a laptop,
something that comes with the quietness
of a word, hum of refrigerator.

On the weekend I joined a convoy
of walkers, fitter and older than I.
But it was worth every aching climb,
heat rising to thirty-four degrees!

The kangaroo and joey in her pouch
caught with zoom lens is now in my folio.
A gift no doubt, along with other young
life waddling with mother duck.

A walk like no other, away from desk,
away from vaporous suburbia, sounds
of mowers, leaf-blowers, dogs. Moments
finding yourself once again on that field trip.

Photographs taken at Yanchep National Park. The ten kilometre walk was called Ghost Trail Walk.
This poem is part of my daily writing practice and the photographs were taken on a Sony HD Cybershot with Optical Zoom.

Helen Hagemann 2015 ©

The View ©

The View

for Dmitry Kozlov

A landscape

without views from windows or curtains.
Boulders are boisterous, shaped to spiral a climb.
And the hanging rock, a ragged edge for trembling.

Lucky the one who has closed urban doors,
who rises, stretching, to sit at a table
with coffee, sweet with sugar.

Lucky the one who sets out for purple trails,
a backpack thumping behind
fitting the shape of the wearer.

A song perhaps comes with a day's trudging,
words in the deepest brevity
as the sun warms, as energy wanes.

What of other views, unknown, unseen?
– a world shaping treachery at every turn.
Are we prepared for the hardest climb?

This ekphrastic poem is written in response to Dmitry Koslov's painting. Dmitry is an art student at Applecross Senior High School and the work, of course, along with many other artists/ poets will be published in an anthology. This is all due to the hard work of English teacher, Veronica Lake.

Photographed at Herdsman Lake with the WA Naturalists Club, 27th Sept, 2015

Egret in the Shallows

Never clumsy, sturdy knees,
she stands in the shallows
waiting to strike.

Each foot turns over, slowly, right
then left. A young body, white body,
eyes hardened into the bedding of paperbark.

Without knowing her meal might vanish,
move into the cool shadows; the world waits
as the heron waits.

If her fish disappears without explanation,
does she feel anger, loss, anxious? Or is this
simply a walk in the lake?

I first thought that this waterbird was a "crane" - not so, it is an "egret" - still learning!