In Bison breath

[tectak]

In Bison Breath

In Bison breath the bursting bronze of early sun
thrusts glowing fingers through the boughs of beech.
This is the double dawn; of time itself, a course begun,
and of each day. A billion dawns proclaimed by eagle's screech.

In Bison breath here lay the beast, upon the beaded grass, and there
he stalked to cover lest the stirring mists dispersed, and clear
would be. The dark shade hides, so in to shaftless forest with the bear,
wolf, beaver, boar, the lynx and trembling deer.

In Bison breath a silence falls and shifts the air, re-balancing the day
and all the scents of night are layered, still. Telling signs appear
to those who hunt and those who would be hunted; prey
to nature's sweet and cunning curse of need and fear.

In Bison breath hear through the warming air, far triumph tamed,
an echoed roar. Another darkness lost to dawn’s pale light;
another day, another sun, another battle and a victory claimed
o’er wild and wooded Bialowieza’s cold primeval night.

In Bison breath the white hoar frost quick melts, and green the grass
once more. And where he lay and where he slept will soon spring true
to wave in winds that carry off the scents of night. So as we pass
we, too, become one transient spirit in this land; they are many, we are but a few.

Tom Kirby.
After Bialowieza. September 2010

[Leanne]

You capture the primeval hush very well in your opening stanza and one can almost imagine that Utopia in which man has not yet begun to imprint the world in his misguided image. The use of enjambment is very good throughout, allowing the rhymes to fall naturally without disturbing the flow of the poem. The only word that seems a little off to me is "transient" in the last line -- not that it isn't the exact word, I think it's probably just the sonics that are disturbed there but I have no alternatives to offer.

I really did enjoy this, thank you.

[tectak]

You capture the primeval hush very well in your opening stanza and one can almost imagine that Utopia in which man has not yet begun to imprint the world in his misguided image. The use of enjambment is very good throughout, allowing the rhymes to fall naturally without disturbing the flow of the poem. The only word that seems a little off to me is "transient" in the last line -- not that it isn't the exact word, I think it's probably just the sonics that are disturbed there but I have no alternatives to offer.

I really did enjoy this, thank you.

....and I loved the place so I'm going back in September. Google scotnature for details. You would love it.. God how I detest people who say that!
Thanks for your words. Agree about "transient" but think the whole last line reads a little Churchillian......and as we know, he was a man of no romance.
Best,
Tectak

[Leanne]

Poor old Winnie

What about something about treading lightly upon the earth?

[billy]

In Bison Breath

In Bison breath the bursting bronze of early sun
thrusts glowing fingers through the boughs of beech. Great image to open with
This is the double dawn; of time itself, a course begun,
and of each day. A billion dawns proclaimed by eagle's screech.

In Bison breath here lay the beast, upon the beaded grass, and there extra space after breath
he stalked to cover lest the stirring mists dispersed, and clear
would be. The dark shade hides, so in to shaftless forest with the bear, and clear would be feels forced as if to accommodate the end rhyme
wolf, beaver, boar and timid, trembling deer.

In Bison breath a silence falls and shifts the air, re-balancing the day
and all the scents of night are layered, still. Telling signs appear i love the way this line evolves
to those who hunt and those who would be hunted; prey
to nature's sweet and cunning curse of need and fear. some really good sonics going on in this verse.

In Bison breath hear through the warming air, far triumph tamed,
an echoed roar. Another darkness lost to dawn’s pale light;
another day, another sun, another battle and a victory claimed
o’er wild and wooded Bialowieza’s cold primeval night. a good marker for the reader who doesn't know (like me) to google

In Bison breath the white hoar frost quick melts, and green the grass
once more. And where he lay and where he slept will soon spring true
to wave in winds that carry off the scents of night. So as we pass
we, too, become one transient spirit in this land; they are many, we are but a few. in this land feels redundant as thats what the poet is obviously talking of, and without it the flow of the line works better (for me)

Tom Kirby.
After Bialowieza. September 2010

i only marked one double space tom but they are a few. (probably the copy and past from word i'm guessing)
apart from the 'clear' which i mentioned above the rhyme scheme is impeccable and goes unnoticed as it should. the bison refrain is excellent, i wanted to say beautiful but it is a too overused word. thanks for anchoring the poem with a place name. it only took a few seconds to google it and see it's a real place, and what type of place. you captured it's primeval quality better than one could expect. all in all not too shoddy
thanks for the journey (jmo)
billy

[tectak]

In Bison Breath version 2. Thanks Billy

In Bison breath the bursting bronze of early sun
thrusts glowing fingers through the boughs of beech.
This is the double dawn; of time itself, a course begun,
and of each day. A billion dawns proclaimed by eagle's screech.

In Bison breath here lay the beast, upon the beaded grass, and there
he stalked to cover lest the stirring mists dispersed, and clear
became. The dark shade hides, so in to shaftless forest with the bear,
wolf, beaver, boar, the lynx and trembling deer.

In Bison breath a silence falls and shifts the air, re-balancing the day
and all the scents of night are layered, still. Telling signs appear
to those who hunt and those who would be hunted; prey
to nature's sweet and cunning curse of need and fear.

In Bison breath hear through the warming air, far triumph tamed,
an echoed roar. Another darkness lost to dawn’s pale light;
another day, another sun, another battle and a victory claimed
o’er wild and wooded Bialowieza’s cold primeval night.

In Bison breath the white hoar frost quick melts, and green the grass
once more. And where he lay and where he slept will soon spring true
to wave in winds that carry off the scents of night. So as we pass
we, too, are transient spirits; yet they are many, we are but a few.

Tom Kirby.
After Bialowieza. September 2010

i only marked one double space tom but they are a few. (probably the copy and past from word i'm guessing)
apart from the 'clear' which i mentioned above the rhyme scheme is impeccable and goes unnoticed as it should. the bison refrain is excellent, i wanted to say beautiful but it is a too overused word. thanks for anchoring the poem with a place name. it only took a few seconds to google it and see it's a real place, and what type of place. you captured it's primeval quality better than one could expect. all in all not too shoddy
thanks for the journey (jmo)
billy

Thanks for the oversee billy. Version 2 posted above. All points investigated but I am still not happy with transient. I need another word to say the same thing.

[ChristopherSea]

In Bison Breath

In Bison breath the bursting bronze of early sun
thrusts glowing fingers through the boughs of beech.
This is the double dawn; of time itself, a course begun,
and of each day. A billion dawns proclaimed by eagle's screech.

In Bison breath here lay the beast, upon the beaded grass, and there
he stalked to cover lest the stirring mists dispersed, and clear
would be. The dark shade hides, so in to shaftless forest with the bear,
wolf, beaver, boar, the lynx and trembling deer.

In Bison breath a silence falls and shifts the air, re-balancing the day
and all the scents of night are layered, still. Telling signs appear
to those who hunt and those who would be hunted; prey
to nature's sweet and cunning curse of need and fear.

In Bison breath hear through the warming air, far triumph tamed,
an echoed roar. Another darkness lost to dawn’s pale light;
another day, another sun, another battle and a victory claimed
o’er wild and wooded Bialowieza’s cold primeval night.

In Bison breath the white hoar frost quick melts, and green the grass
once more. And where he lay and where he slept will soon spring true
to wave in winds that carry off the scents of night. So as we pass
we, too, become one transient spirit in this land; they are many, we are but a few.

Tom Kirby.
After Bialowieza. September 2010

Aha, the Puszcza Białowieska and the last strong hold of the European Bison. Lovely! What a landscape you have painted herein my friend-in-pen. I see why it is your favorite holiday retreat. All of this clarifies above the snorting bison breath… Very nice work. The back story of these magnificent beasts, living in this primeval forest, is that they were driven into extinction by a war-torn and starving Poland, but repopulated from six forbearers borrowed from zoos.

[tectak]

In Bison Breath

In Bison breath the bursting bronze of early sun
thrusts glowing fingers through the boughs of beech.
This is the double dawn; of time itself, a course begun,
and of each day. A billion dawns proclaimed by eagle's screech.

In Bison breath here lay the beast, upon the beaded grass, and there
he stalked to cover lest the stirring mists dispersed, and clear
would be. The dark shade hides, so in to shaftless forest with the bear,
wolf, beaver, boar, the lynx and trembling deer.

In Bison breath a silence falls and shifts the air, re-balancing the day
and all the scents of night are layered, still. Telling signs appear
to those who hunt and those who would be hunted; prey
to nature's sweet and cunning curse of need and fear.

In Bison breath hear through the warming air, far triumph tamed,
an echoed roar. Another darkness lost to dawn’s pale light;
another day, another sun, another battle and a victory claimed
o’er wild and wooded Bialowieza’s cold primeval night.

In Bison breath the white hoar frost quick melts, and green the grass
once more. And where he lay and where he slept will soon spring true
to wave in winds that carry off the scents of night. So as we pass
we, too, become one transient spirit in this land; they are many, we are but a few.

Tom Kirby.
After Bialowieza. September 2010

Aha, the Puszcza Białowieska and the last strong hold of the European Bison. Lovely! What a landscape you have painted herein my friend-in-pen. I see why it is your favorite holiday retreat. All of this clarifies above the snorting bison breath… Very nice work. The back story of these magnificent beasts, living in this primeval forest, is that they were driven into extinction by a war-torn and starving Poland, but repopulated from six forbearers borrowed from zoos.
Yes...we get the bison monologue every time we go. There are 500 of them now. If you get up at 3:30 you might see two of them a mile away...their breath is easier to see. Each prostrate beast has its own cloud above it. Magnificent .