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For months I'd heard the sad insistent call of hidden bird: high low--three tones apart. I hooked the name of Oven Bird from book and read of one that mourned diminished things, remembered not Frost's harbinger of fall lamenting change but the belling of my own name as my mother rang it every summer dusk to close the oven of imaginative play, to yield myself and all apparent ends to the dark and rising mystery of things on that day heard but not yet seen, diminished, named. |
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| Poem, Copyright 2001, Kathleen Dale | Body Landscape
Image Copyright 2001, Pamela Moore Dionne |
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| Kathleen Dale is a poet who teaches creative writing and other courses
at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee. Most recently, she has published
in River Oak Review (poetry & physics issue), Mystic River
Review, Pandora, Petroglyph, The Pedestal Magazine and
The Chiron Review.
Diminished Things is a sonnet without rhyme, using twelve instead of fourteen lines, iambic pentameter, and a closing envoi or message. |
Pamela Moore Dionne studied painting through the University of Alaska Extension in Ketchikan, Alaska and with Mel Wallace at Olympic College. She is the founder and managing editor of Literary Salt which can be found online at www.literarysalt.com. |
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