Tuesday Poem: (From an Awakened Sleep) by Charlotte Hamrick

(From an Awakened Sleep)
pluck me from the charred grate

from the rusty barbed wire
bit by dried up bit

gather the particles
the blackened scale
and crust

cradle it in your hands like
stolen moon dust
relics of a lost life

then blow

*

 
Charlotte HamrickCharlotte Hamrick lives in New Orleans where she often scribbles words and phrases in notebooks that later becomes poetry. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee whose work has been published in several lit magazines including Metazen, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Mad Swirl and Poets For Living Waters. She likes dark chocolate, dogs and people who really listen. Her  original poetry and other occasional writing can be found on her website, Zouxzoux.wordpress.com.  Of this poem, the author writes: “I awoke from a dead sleep in the middle of the night with the first stanza full sprung in my head. I scrawled it on a piece of paper in the dark and went back to sleep. The next day I finished it over the course of several hours. It began as one thing but ended up an entirely different thing and that just amazes me.”
I came across this poem at Fictionaut and asked Charlotte if I could share it here. It strikes me with its soft and understated brilliance, and I appreciate the author note, too. I also recently read another of her  poems at Olentangy Review, here. I’ll  look forward to reading more of Charlotte’s work. 

 

*

Find more poems this week from the energetic mix of Tuesday Poets below. Just click on over to the main hub and see what’s happening. This week you’ll read a poem by Australian poem Jill Jones, presented by Tuesday Poem hub editor this week, Catherine Bateson. You can also find poems by the various TP collective members — look down the lefthand sidebar and click on each one to see their weekly contributions.

Tuesday Poem For more Tuesday Poems, go here.

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3 Responses to Tuesday Poem: (From an Awakened Sleep) by Charlotte Hamrick

  1. Pingback: Newsy News & Celebration | Zouxzoux

  2. Pingback: Writing, Behind and Ahead | Zouxzoux

  3. gather the particles
    the blackened scale
    and crust

    cradle it in your hands like
    stolen moon dust
    relics of a lost life

    then blow

    beautiful, powerful poem

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