It’s a quarter to five,
still dark outside
and I can’t sleep.
There’s a perfect half moon
and a sky full of stars.
An owl hoots.
I can’t tell if the moon
is waxing or waning.
Waiting for the coffee to brew
I can’t tell if I
am waxing or waning.
Just another long day.
Today I want to go for a ride
and visit Pam or Kate.
I want to drink lemonade
with real sugar.
I want stroll
and window-shop
while holding your hand,
as though life were simple.
I want to laugh and drive fast
and not think of consequences.
Just for today
I want to be happy.
55 words for Joy’s Verse Escape.
I am a beginner
but already enchanted
with the beautiful
colors and
textures
of yarn
the way it slips
through the needles,
the feel of it on my fingers
and the repetition
knit, knit, purl
purl, purl, knit, purl
over and over
like a meditation,
the clicking of needles
a mantra
calming
soothing
and creating
My husband is on Facebook now.
He shares pictures of kittens
with me
and shows me posts with
funny tee shirts
and dad jokes.
This is rather like
watching a
prong-horned antelope
having high tea
or a construction worker
using doilies on the handles
of his jack hammer
Not wrong, exactly,
just very…
unexpected
Yesterday I saw
that the deer
who comes through the yard
stopped and snacked on
my hosta
leaving nothing but the
central vein of
each leaf, which,
I have learned
is called the rachis
just these
rachises sticking up
where each delicious
blue-green leaf had been
Now the “blue angel”
is nothing
but a cluster of spikes,
unappetizing bits
to a deer
That’s the price
I suppose
for building my home
so close to hers
Photo by Mary Bach
Once when I walked
through town.
People were busy living.
Streets were filled with cars,
sidewalks dotted with people.
Everyone was on the way
to somewhere else
Except for me.
I was just walking
and watching
Now, an occasional car
slips past,
sidewalks are empty.
The people are gone
except for me.
I’m just walking
and watching
This is for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55 at Verse Escape.
There is no
Officer Friendly
in George’s neighborhood.
And
violence,
non-violence,
neither has worked.
Gandhi would be dismayed.
How can MLK RIP
with his dream
still such a long way off?
WTF?
Does our hope
for justice
reside
in a video camera
that shows the horror of
ourselves
to ourselves
in a world on fire?
RIP Mr. Floyd
This is for Hedgewitch’s Friday 55 at Verse Escape.
Sometimes
a walk in the woods
is just a walk
Sometimes it is an exploration
of scientific discovery
Sometimes it is a search for beauty
a walk filled with wonder
Sometimes it is a renewal,
a refreshing of body and spirit
Sometimes it is a hero’s journey,
an archetypal quest
Sometimes it is a forgetting,
a dropping away of the world
Sometimes it is therapy;
sometimes a meditation, or a prayer
Perhaps, after all,
a walk in the woods
is never just a walk in the woods
April bows out
leaving so prettily
though yesterday
was rainy, cold and gray
birdsong
starts this day,
insects flit and buzz everywhere,
and the pigeons low cooing
continues until dusk
Sun and wind and greening grass,
clean smell of growing things
and freshly turned earth
promise gardens of delight
to come
The flowers of May
the fruits of June
and August’s bounty
drying, dying into autumn
We made it! Congratulations to everyone who wrote 30 poems in 30 days during the month of April! Well done, you!
Under my tongue
sits the world,
dissolving
slipping down
the back
of my throat
I can feel it
growing
within me
oceans roll
through my veins
leaves sprout
from my fingertips
deserts and prairies
bloom in my eyes
and we are radiant
