that's mrs. mediocrity to you

.

mending

the invisible thread
that holds us

together

a swirl of snow
here

a ray of sun
there

a circle

delivering

promise

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

forty-eights
masks

so far

miles of
fabric
and neat rows
of stitches

bent neck
sore back
pricked fingers

today
that counts
as poetry

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

silence
(you said)

and i refused
to listen

in the stillness
that followed

i remembered
the sound

of recalcitrance

your breath

and

six miles
of liberty

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

color
(in darkness)

is the shape
of your breath
(tangerine)

or the whisper
that scratches blue
out of black

and the middle
(which never falls
dead center)

the way the moon
wakes me up
with sharp raps
on my window

or silence

embarrassed

by its own
soliloquy

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

roots

fresh new growth
in tiny green houses

we remember
we cherish
we reminisce
we pine

today, the sun shines
lilac leaves reach
for gold
and warm light

soon
purple scent
will fill
every corner

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

breaking
ground

as if
we could plant

the seed
that will
save us

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

mo(u)rning song

a grey veil
of fog

does not stop
the red, red cardinal
from singing

from the topmost branch
of the still-bare tree
planted by the echo
of ancestor

in the hedgerow
red-winged blackbirds
harmonize

crow vies with jay

together we begin

a new day

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

.

window

everything is clean
and the world
is awash
with disease

dis-ease

ill seas

i watch the sky
not certain why

searching for signs
or rhymes
or lines

pointing
in the right

direction

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

sanctity
(sanity)

holding on

to:

your hand
your love
your whisper of hope
possibility
tiny miracles
tomorrow
grey clouds
sunshine

orion high
in night’s dark sky

a robin
builds a nest
in the tree
outside my window

she is my
hero

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.

grief

that instant
each morning

just as you
open

didn’t really
sleep well
eyes

that instant
each morning

before
you remember

.

that is the
moment

i cling to

.

. . . . .

.

here i am again, doing this again–30 days of poems, hoping the words will come.
hoping hope will come, as well.