Jul
8
2014
all the memories
become a jumble
of forgotten chances
paint peels
and the sky
blinks
clouding birds
with gun flint
steel
a southern hurricane
whispers blindly
through the poplars
i planted
one day long ago
when i could not
say your name
now those same trees
shade our bedroom
telling secrets to a
clear clown canvas
and i paint circles
on your chest
with knobby-edged
fingers
wondering
if the rings
at the heart of those
tall twin trunks
are made of time
or gold
or if it matters
shadows dance
as leaves shimmy shake
across the surface of a lake
we never managed
to explore
and we watch the sun
set down color
like a promise
or a platter
filled with food
from a picnic
never taken
.
.
.
5 comments | posted in poetry in motion, what i see
Jul
5
2014
.
a dance
with the sky
requires
bare feet
a dab of scent
and
arms wide open
.
.
.
.
4 comments | posted in the language of flowers
Jul
3
2014
.
mother nature invented fireworks
.
love is everywhere i turn
.
outrage makes me tired
.
reading keeps me sane
.
writing keeps me whole
.
my garden keeps me centered
.
fireflies at midnight are still magic
.
every sunrise is a page in the book of possibility
.
every sunset is a sentence in your story
.
whispering poplars sing the best lullabyes
.
birdsong is the symphony of life
.
.
.
.
3 comments
Jul
1
2014
half is half and whole is whole
and open is never closed
the sky is unconcerned with your welfare
even as it paints your evening red
silence is impossible to silence
full or empty
black or gold
drink it in with your pessimist’s stare
pour it out with an optimist’s grin
overflow
and the earth will take your offering
run it downhill to the pool of purpose
gather
mingle
transmogrify
despair and hope and courage
and puddle them all
at the feet of fortitude
an elixir of entropy
reflecting
cirrus clouds
and broken blue
.
.
.
3 comments | posted in poetry in motion, what keeps me up at night