Endings break my heart
sometimes.
But sometimes
they can’t come
fast enough.
Nothing new can start
until there has been
an ending.
This is not profound
or deep
it’s so simple
we forget
sometimes
To live
to love
to grow –
we need endings
before we can do any
of these
And without these
we are nothing
Early April, and warm enough
to keep the windows open overnight
and so we wake to birdsong,
which is more of a repeated chirrup
than a song.
It reminds me of a dripping faucet
if the droplets sounded sharp.
Still, the air feels mild
and smells of rain.
This is spring – gentle, yet sharp.
Take a walk around the lake
and think about things
Not your heart rate
or your calories burned
but the things you push out
of your mind
all the rest of the time
Like where have all
the years gone
how much time have you
exchanged for cash
and when will you begin
to live?
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.
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
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.
#18
I have a lot of dreams,
lately
where I’m lost
and I can’t get to
wherever it is I need to be
Suddenly
things come up
distractions
complications –
baroque and convoluted
I’m off on a tangent
trying to fix
something
or solve some puzzle
and meanwhile
getting no closer
to where I’m meant to be
#19
We are tired
of staying home
of our own company
we are sick and tired
of hand washing and masks
soon we will be sick to death
#20
Yesterday
I planted a garden
I tilled the soil
until it was broken up fine
then I raked it smooth
I use the
broken handle
of a hoe
to space my rows
evenly
To make the rows straight
I use two stakes with
a piece of string
tied between them
I planted a row of
Sweet Ann peas
next to that
Red Bliss potatoes
(because who doesn’t want a little more bliss in her life?)
next Little Finger carrots
Detroit Dark Red beets
(though I live in Wisconsin)
and Mixed Heirloom leaf lettuce
Now I wait
and weed
and watch for miracles
Between the clouds
and the ground
and the leafless trees
I see 12 different
shades of gray
As dusk begins
to settle
the daytime
folds in upon itself
Without sun
or moon
in sight
there are no shadows,
but the grays
blend and deepen
A coyote’s lonely call
hangs
unanswered
in the thick, dark air
This is for National Potery Month/ NaPoWriMo, and is linked to Verse Escape where the amazing Hedgewitch is doing extra duty with FF55 each week in April.
Does hope really
have feathers?
Or is it green
and vulnerable
springing
up from the ground?
Or is it a tiny speck of light
like the occasional spot
appearing
in a photograph
not visible
through the lens
but there on the image
Or is hope a dark
insubstantial thing
following like a shadow
hunting you down
55 words for Hedgewitch who carries on the proud tradition at Verse Escape.
In Other Words 