Page 14 - Contrast1963v7n1

SPRING SONG

White horses--Ieaping, sparkling, prancing;

Sea birds wheeling, diving, dancing;

A strong, warm wind that sweeps away

Gloomy thoughts that cloud the day;

Edge of sail, yellow-white,

Washed in color by spring sunlight,
Taut. and sharp against the soft,
Deep, blue, cloudless sky aloft;

Danger's thrill as the leeward rail
Ploughs through the wave-tops, leaving a trail
Of fragile bubbles that fizz as they break
And blend with a fast-fading ribbon of wake;

Intoxicating freedom, speed,
Plunging bow, each crystal bead
Of wind-flung spray,
Surrender to their demand of me
gaiety.

Vivian Bittner

THE WHOLE DAY THROUGH

A paintless shack

caught by the swamp-forest

wrapped with long gray moss--
like a dead mare1s mane

drooping on her skinny neck--
flashes into view.

One lone red rooster

walks in dusty pride

in front of the shanty

and a man with dreamless eyes
saunters down the pathway
whistling to himself.

Jan Shell

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