21 August 2009

almost Heaven.

perhaps you've heard of john denver?
i thought so.
have you heard of tamarack?
it's in beckley, wv.
here's a shot:
(courtesy of wvtourism.com)

it's such a grand place.
i've wanted to go for a long time...
it's only about an hour or so from my home.
a dear friend took me on wednesday
because she knew i would love it.
and i did.
and do.
it's a place filled with spectacular arts and crafts,
all from wv artists.
some mind blowing work.
i mean, wow.
it's an honor to have your work for sale there...
and on display there.
maybe some day.
if you haven't gone,

let me brag on my home.

here's a poem from wv writer lewellyn mckernan
i found in a book i picked up while i was there entitled
And Now the Magpie

The Unicorn on the Picture Postcard

is about to take off.
He looks back once, erasing
the footprints that took him.

to this beach, where the sand
turns dark just before it's
lifted up into the white flower

of a wave. He reduces the sun,
stuck in the upper left corner,
to a lollypop licked to its edges,

his diamond-hard eyes glancing
off the rainbow the rims
the china-plate sky: gold, ruby,

sapphire burst into a thousand
champagne pieces. The unicorn
blinks, pawing the pink sand

with his woven black hoof, shaking
the pale dream of a mane that
whips the circuituous wind to

whipped cream as it sends the tide
on its hummingbird rounds
all glittering gutter and green.

His ears perk as if suddenly he
hears a voice just outside the
vision of the artist that made him

that makes him so excited his black
tails curls up and his orange lashes
sing. He neighs, a sound not unlike

goodbye in every language. He leaps
to the edge of the card, kicking up
his heels hard, and with a dazzling

softshoe that rivals the best Broadway
tapdancer, he exists: leaving behind
the most beautiful landscape, ringing

with absence. Somehow, somewhere
a bigger better landscape called
to him. And he answered.

-by Lewellyn Mckernan (1985)


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