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Missing the Cabin
by
Ruth Gooley


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The tang of fresh paint,
new carpet, linoleum,
and spackle: back in the hustle
of West L. A , I smile, sit on
the balcony, breathe in bleary

air, the ding of the FedEx truck, the scent
of disinfectant and bleach, sigh at the missing
damp dirt smell of the woods,
the pines, the murmur
of the oaks and the rise of the breeze,
 
the patter of the two coyote brothers,
born in a den under the woodpile, the shine
of their russet coats, the stench
of the skunk and the whimpers of her pups
in the wash, the startle of rabbits
 
under the shed, the curve
of the doe and her fawn, their slurp
around the saucer of water I fill daily,
the shine of the redtail as it hunts,
the sudden scatter of leaves
 
at its lunge, the tree frog
hidden so snugly in the pot on
the porch, the quail complaining as
they bob and chuck, and finally
fluster up the hill, the sail
 
of the moon, the starblue
beat of the night, as I pull on shoes, jacket,
rush to the outhouse, stop,
inhale, exhale,
breathe to the rhythm of the wild.



© by Ruth Gooley.
Used with the author’s permission.  

 



Ruth Gooley has published a variety of poems in Your Daily Poem, Ibbetson Street Review, vox poetica, and NatureWriting, among others. She also published a dissertation, "The Image of the Kiss in French Renaissance Poetry." Ruth makes her home in a cabin in the Santa Monica mountains, where she lives in harmony with the abundance of nature there.

 

 

 

 

 


Post New Comment:
Lori Levy:
I also like the contrast between the two different life styles.
Posted 07/26/2020 12:15 AM
jmilfordtv:
I love the way she contrasts two very different lives and brings it all together while going to the out house. Perfect!
Posted 07/25/2020 02:04 PM
michael escoubas:
Wonderful poem that puts the reader square in the center of wild things!!
Posted 07/25/2020 12:07 PM
KevinArnold:
Just coming back from Yosemite, I, too, find myself in two locations at once. Fun poem.
Posted 07/25/2020 10:58 AM
cork:
I heard the rhythm of the wild in your poem.
Posted 07/25/2020 10:16 AM
mail@schoolbusmart.com:
Yes, breathe to the rhythm of the wild. Listen for the beating of its heart. Randy
Posted 07/25/2020 09:48 AM
Jean Colonomos:
I appreciate your paradoxical thoughts. True to human complexity.
Posted 07/25/2020 09:47 AM
Sharon Waller Knutson:
Love this poem because I relate and recognize through the imagery and artistry the hustle of West LA and the rhythm of the wild. I too lived both lives and prefer the latter.
Posted 07/25/2020 08:06 AM


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