Waiting for Rebirth
Never turns branches loose
this scraggly old tree in the side yard.
Hovering like a Brillo pad
unabashed over the driveway
she has all the arms of her birth
and all the twigs sprung from these.
She has bird nests of seasons past
hidden well in the scrub.
She’s naked now, but promises new growth
and more twigs to her full figure,
blushing green leaves to flush out her beauty.
by Ruth Faulkner Grubbs
Written in class at John C. Campbell Folk School
April 2009, accepted and forthcoming in Poetry Guild Anthology
Her House of Clay by Ruth Faulkner Grubbs
They found the creamy white clay sparkling
a commodity of the earth free for taking
thrifty for useful projects
for mixing with spring water
a thick smooth soup
to cling to stones, tree trunks, and old boards
such as Mommie's house
a board and batten, one hundred years old
never painted.
An idea was born.
Kept secret
the far back corner
Mommie would't notice
a bucket for mixing
old paint brushes from the smoke house
a bit of stealth
an idea from Tom Sawyer
they'd read it at school
most of the summer morning
plying, slathering, reaching the low roof line
quite so no one would hear
The mixture dried
beautiful smooth almost white
pride tugged at their seams
Mommie appeared her toothless smile
the whole house she said
the small low built house
a long day's work and the next
they labored to set a jewel glistening upon the hill.
from HOLY GROUND Where Love Goes
by Ruth Faulkner Grubbs
Order this book from
Holy Ground
3601 Wilderness Road
Knoxville, TN 37917
$15.00 plus $3.00 package and posting
total $18.00
"Ruth Grubbs writes poetry and prose that is powerful,earthy, and true. Her writing is, in turn, humorous, enlightening, joyful, and haunting. She charms her readers with an authentic Appalachian voice that hails directly from the heart."
--Cathy Kodra
2 comments:
Nancy-I enjoyed both of her poems!
Yes. A grand poet she is, Nancy. I loved every line and image. How I would love to hear her read her work.
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