Twichell’s Pine

Published on by Laura Bloomsbury 
At the monastery,
a moth lit, by firelight,
the first frost. 

Incense burns 
fresh, pine rising through
the hours. 

Summer is thin on the brook.
Emptying the long silence,
long, soft rustling, robes. 

Deer tracks
made of snow. The wind has
dragged over history.

“The first night at the monastery,
a moth lit on my sleeve by firelight,
long after the first frost.

A short stick of incense burns
thirty minutes, fresh thread of pine
rising through the old pine of the hours.

Summer is trapped under the thin
glass on the brook, making
the sound of an emptying bottle.

Before the long silence,
the monks makea long soft rustling,
adjusting their robes.

The deer are safe now. Their tracks
are made of snow. The wind has dragged
its branches over their history.”

An erasure poem that redacts Chase Twichell’s “The Pine” to 44 words for De’s quadrille prompt: Are you Pining for Poems?

48 thoughts on “Twichell’s Pine”

  8. I don’t usually like erasure poetry, but this one really is a poem. Maybe because it sprang from one.
    ‘fresh pine rising through the hours’
    the canonical hours.

  12. I really enjoyed how you showed the erasures, so the reader could still read the original poem. Nicely done. And what a fun challenge to do an erasure to a specific word count.

    1. many thanks Maria – I always keep the original alongside so that plagiarism and copyright are seen within bounds whilst giving the original an airing for the reader. Also it helps me erase as I can work them side by side.

  13. Oh your erase adds such a new feel to this. Beautifully done. I’m especially enamored with
    “Summer is thin on the brook
    emptying the long silence,”

  17. Deer tracks made of snow. Beautiful assembly, word on top of word, like those piles of rocks. Sometimes all you have to do is stir a little bit.

  18. A great idea, Laura, an erasure quadrille, and you’ve done it so deftly! I love the eerie ’ moth lit, by firelight, / the first frost, the ‘pine rising through the hours’, and the way the silence is emptied by the rustling robes and the wind that has dragged over history – what an amazing way to create sound.

    1. it was a fortunate combination Kim as I was rather pressed for time but will bear this poetry style in mind for future quadrilles as the word count really exercises the poet!

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