Melinda Foshat

Poetry, Prose, Photography



Yonder the sterile splinter’s wedge of winter on a fence’s edge,
A foreign field of dandies fly, forging toward the speckled sky.
As hummingbirds in all their haste cease to soon the season’s chase,
And Sycamore shade, quick to press, against the seedling seeking rest.

Yonder the battered brim of cobbled path, tread by soles of many past,
There the mud awaits the flesh, longing to make the raw the fresh.
Tainted by the mounting grass, reaching heights that none surpass,
Twisting vines forming sculptures of knot, secrete the wine of grapes unwrought.

Yonder the sag of incurvate roof, giving way to gravity’s proof,
Stands mountains erect in all their might, bowing only to morning’s light.
Sunshine reflects off of sandy shore due to the cycle of tide before,
Seashells remain as the proof of past, that what once was will forever last.

Yonder the day my body dies and my brittle bones bid you goodbye,
In the fields, the mud, the mountains high, my eternal soul greets you high.

RIP Kelsey Justin Stevens

© Copyright – All rights reserved – – August 30, 2013

Author: melindafoshat

Poet, dreamer, philosopher, photographer

5 thoughts on “Yonder

  1. This is a beautiful piece of work!

  2. Beautiful poem. Thank you for visiting my blog and drawing me here. I’ll be back.

  3. I am pleased that you stop by my blog, read my review of “The Village” and decided to follow my blog. What pleases me the most is discovering your writing. I look for good writers as followers as I love good writing. Given that you are of Persian descent it is not surprising that you are a talented poet. I like “Yonder”, knowing that it is in memory of a fellow student at Wagner. If you were in Brooklyn, your writing would be celebrated. Keep at it. I will be following.

  4. Like your use of imagery.

  5. You have made a stunning flow here, I thoroughly enjoy reading it out loud.

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