Morning Conversations

You lift my hair like a cool breeze
and kiss my ear;
I’m the only one who’ll hear
in the thundering
silence of early morning.

Everyone else is asleep
or deaf to the poem that hums
in my head, thrums
like a guitar string, chatters
like the sparrows
in the hedgerows.

Even when you trumpet,
an elephant-grey cloud
in an otherwise clear sky,
nobody hears – only I
interpret your Morse code
of raindrops , transcribe the whisper
of the wind into words on paper
or pixels on a screen, recording
our morning conversations.

Kim M. Russell, 2018

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My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads The Poem as a One-Sided Conversation and linked to dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night

Kerry asks if we ever get the feeling we’re talking to ourselves. She wonders if we have long conversations with ourselves or say a lot but no one’s listening.

Kerry has shared poem by Mary Oliver, entitled ‘Every Morning’, to inspire us to celebrate the poem as a one-sided conversation.

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61 thoughts on “Morning Conversations

  1. Wow! Kim, I can’t believe the points of confluence between your poem and mine – I did not read it before I wrote mine: The humming sound and the computer screen awaiting the first word of the day… we writers have so much in common.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. On my “About Me” page on my blog I wrote: “I love to write, and would often ‘write’ things in my head that I never committed to paper. That’s why I decided to blog. To make room in my head for more.” I never thought of the things I write as one-sided conversations, but now I will. Love how you committed this one to paper (or screen).

    Liked by 1 person

  3. kaykuala

    transcribe the whisper
    of the wind into words on paper
    or pixels on a screen, recording
    our morning conversations.

    the passion and desire to be able to relate with another must be strong. Only then it brings positive results !

    Hank

    Liked by 1 person

  4. If I copied down my favorite phrases in this, I would copy the whole poem. I’ll content myself with this bit: only I interpret your Morse code of raindrops , transcribe the whisper of the wind into words on paper –
    what beautiful words you write!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’ve taken to write in the early pre-dawn mornings now, and know what you mean by feeling like I’m the only one hearing that hum, that guitar string vibrating in the sky and in my head, as if the two were one. Your poem illustrates so well the relationship of the interpreter and the muse.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. The word dance that seems to be constantly in motion, even in the breathless silence of dawn, or as the hustle and shuffle unfolds in the day – words are constantly in play – but these treasured moments of quiet are amazing. A delicious and very sensuous poem Kim – and if this is self-talk at it’s finest, then may you be blessed for many more moments like this.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. “Everyone else is asleep
    or deaf to the poem that hums
    in my head, thrums”

    I can so relate… most of my family NEVER read my poems – and that’s OK… it’s really my voice, my creative outlet… for me. A silent part of me, really … a “conversation” I suppose – I’ve never thought of it like this before but well, there it is. Yes, I relate to your poetic words here.

    Liked by 1 person

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