A Poem in Honor of Woodbury's Under the Bough Poetry Entrants


Sandy Lee Carlson, Under the Bough, Woodbury

Sandy Lee Carlson, Under the Bough, Woodbury

Sandy Lee Carlson, Under the Bough, Woodbury

 “I Have Learned”

I have learned that when it comes to animals and plants, c0mmunication happens without words spoken aloud.  There can be no communication if your human mind doesn’t allow space for it.  Let your human mind be still or become like the water running in the ditch in a continuous quiet rhythm. Then, there you are….” 

–Joy Harjo, note on the poem “Frog in a Dry River” in Weaving Sundown in a Scarlet Light


Young Voices

Cool, dew-wet, sun-dappled dawn emerges

Like a fawn, mother-licked to life and to breath

In the tall grasses of hidden verges

Too far from the path to know human steps.

Yet we make our way from dreams to waking

While, undreamed, anemone, trillium

Wild leeks, skunk cabbage, bloodroot are slaking

Winter’s thirst for rest from hope that spring come.

Yellow flowers yield to summer’s green leaves,

Pooling on the ground in shadows full of light.

Spring passes, but no loving mother grieves

A growing child whose heart is strong and bright,

Whose soul she shapes with love and loving words,

The poems of our children, the songs of the birds.


Under the Bough

Children’s voices tell

Stories of home, hearth, heart, here.

Listen:  find your way.


–Sandy Carlson

Woodbury Poet Laureate

Poem for the First “Under the Bough”  Poetry Competition

23 April 2023


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