Riders On the Rain

By Annette Marie Hyder
(for M)

Under the wind’s translucent sheets
diamonds fall,
raindrops sharp as knives and cold as steel,
but they don’t touch me.
It is as if there is a space of grace around me.
I am a sigh, a feather touch
against your black back
but you still feel me
through the leather of your jacket
and my hair, Medusa ribbons,
winds itself like a scarf of silk
streaming in the wind.

Sunday Things: Transformations

Caddisflies are closely related to lepidoptera. They have aquatic larvae and these larvae can be found in streams, rivers, lakes, ponds, spring seeps, and vernal pools. The larvae spin protective cases of silk embellished with materials from their environment such as gravel, sand, twigs, bits of shell, and other detritus. Caddisflies have been mostly of interest to trout and trout fisherman — until Hubert Duprat decided to collaborate with them.

Artist Hubert Duprat decided to embellish the environment of the caddisfly larvae by providing them with gold leaf and
precious stones and in the process entering into a compelling collaboration that would transform their mundane activities into bejeweled sculptures:

“Duprat’s aquatic caddis fly larvae, with cases incorporating gold, opal, and turquoise, among other materials.” — Cabinet Magazine. Photos Jean-Luc Fournier. Art courtesy of Paris, and Zero Gallery, Milan.

Transforming our surroundings

You’ve heard the adages, “You are what you eat,” and “You are what you read.” It can also be said that the things you create are directly influenced by the things you surround yourself with.

This artistic experiment highlights for me the importance of surrounding oneself with beautiful things — but not just beautiful material things. Imagine the beauty we can create in our lives by surrounding ourselves with souls of gold and hearts of precious gems, with ideas carved on pearls and strung on pure silver wire, with actions that shine like diamonds and adorn the cocoons of our daily lives with brilliance.

The wonderful Cabinet Magazine has an in depth article about Duprat’s art project as well as video of the larvae in action. Check out the magazine here.

The Leaves, What Leaves There Are

By Annette Marie Hyder

The leaves look like gray mice
nibbling at the cold
and that might seem like an awful thought —
trees swinging with colorless mice
their paper sharp teeth all a-nibble —
but I find comfort in knowing
that they will rattle away
following the wind like it is a pied piper
and taking their ice whiskers with them.

Sunday Things: Tower Tree

Tower Tree
By Annette Marie Hyder

There is a place where the tide rises with a brisk wind at its back, a tiny island regularly engulfed by the rising waters. The long beach grasses that are kissed by warm sunshine gradually come to be waving beneath the green blue sea.

And there is a single tree on that tiny island. The waves never submerge the tree. I know this from experience for I have watched the teeming sea many times, from its branches, thinking about estuarine crocodiles and drug smugglers on bullet-fast boats and at the same time noticing the laughter of the leaves — even above the slap of surf — when I sat in the arms of my tower tree.

I just want to thank you because, although I have not been to that island in many years, I have felt the rising tide licking hungrily at my feet. It was when I felt you at my back and knew that you would help and shelter me that I realized that you are a true and hardy branch of my beloved tower tree.

Midnight Skiing

Midnight Skiing (or, The Song That I Can Hear Behind His Voice)
By Annette Marie Hyder

He says the snow looks like diamonds sparkling in the moonlight,
says there is a hushed whisper of angel song in the whoosh of ski on track.
Says I will feel my wings unfurl as I hurtle down the slope,
3 sets — 1 each for shoulders, hips, and feet.
Tells me if I have water skied (he knows I have) that I can do this —
makes me think of the iron grip my thighs took to ride each wave
how it began with steady rising
and firm control of every drop-filled detail.
Says it will be much like that but with powdered sugar replacing wetness.
He neglects to itemize the cold.

But for a song like the one he mentioned at the start —
the one that I
can hear behind his voice —
for a song like that and three sets of
wings I will embrace the cold
thrill of midnight skiing beneath the moon whilst riding on the wind.


By Annette Marie Hyder

siblings are connected to us in so many ways
they are each a key
to our heart’s own understanding of ourselves
they plant themselves
in the soil of our souls, our being,
and leave secrets, for us to solve,
like the echo of childhood games,
the secret of where the lock is for the key
and what will grow from the seeds within us
in their memory