He pads down dark corridors
peering into empty rooms
Loss curls around him
rubbing his stubble
He swallows it whole
and feels it settle
heavy
in his belly
Picking at a frayed seam
he wonders how he can be both
so full
and so empty
This is for Bjorn at dVerse Poets Pub where we have been asked to write a poem of forty-four words including the word, “curl”, also know as a quadrille.
Red Oak pollen from the Department of Environmental Conservation
Organisms move
in a seemingly random dance
and people in our lives
enter and leave
at unknown intervals
There is a day
when leaves begin to turn
and geese fill the sky
with their southerly dance
and the sun bows down
ever earlier
Blind and deaf,
we do not see
the pattern of the steps
or hear the music
but only feel its beat
reverberating through our bodies
This is for the Imaginary Garden, where Bjorn asked us to write something about Brownian Motion, which he explained as, “which is the random motion of particles suspended in a fluid that can be observed through a microscope.”
In Other Words 