night day asleep then awake we give and we take smoothing out the imperfections placing new threads onto the loom and clutching the moon day night embrace deviate a cycle of fate weaving lush stories in our wake transferring tapestries to the places we create night day alive and awake fully captivate interlacing threads ofContinue reading “Night and Day”
Category Archives: Poetry
Zigzag
We’re tracing our handprintsin sand, pulling feet from concrete footprints.We’re slipping through the silt, plunging headstrongthrough the river.We’re foraging through moss and leaves, forming futures in the foliage.We’re embers of yesterday’s memories, tracing our handprints in sand. I’ve written this poem for the Wea’ve Written Weekly prompt at the Skeptic’s Kaddish; this week’s prompt wasContinue reading “Zigzag”
Encore
spring dances againcomfort in renewalbuds billowingbees hoveringbirds trilling sky shimmeringnature is rebornsolace blooms~gratitude~blooms solacereborn is natureshimmering skytrilling birdshovering beesbillowing budsrenewal in comfortagain, dances spring I wrote this poem for the Wea’ve Written Weekly poetry prompt. This week’s challenge comes from Punam who asks us to do the following: The palindrome poem looked incredibly challenging toContinue reading “Encore”
Nature’s Folly
Sneak away behind the treesthey’ll never spot us among the evergreensand the gentle hushof the meadow breezewill surely mask our gobbling. We’ll freely gander, grazing for hours,spend our sunshine in folly, our wobbling superpowers.We don’t soar over seasor traverse mountain towersbut live our simple turkey dreams haunting your backyard flowers. I wrote this poem forContinue reading “Nature’s Folly”
April Buds
The morning chorus of birdsong greets me under a gray-cloaked sky.We sip coffee on the back porch in sweatshirts, hoods pulled tight around our faces as the first tentative raindrops scamper across the yard, blipping onto the peeling paint,spreading out into Rorschach blobs that test our springtime fortitude. I wrote this poem for this week’sContinue reading “April Buds”
Who am I and What is My Purpose?
the sunrise over a flooded riverbed–now mid-day, or maybe sunset instead,the soft-spoken advice that leads you homethe messy-haired head lost in a tomethe crinkled leaf upon that same riverthe freckled skin, the dry hands that sliverthe mothering arms for ready embracethe struggling teacher longing for gracethe light feet dancing from place to place This poemContinue reading “Who am I and What is My Purpose?”
Ocean Stranger
Ocean, you rippling stranger,carrying unknown danger to a land-locked wanderer like me.I could stare for hours in wonder at your hypnotic waves, skipping rocks across the smooth surface,investigating the mysteries left behind at low tide, plunging headfirst in abandon into seaweed, nearly caressing the curves of painted coral, dripping footprints on shell-crumbled sands, and dozingContinue reading “Ocean Stranger”
Tristan & Isolde
the storm of love’s intentonce content with play and rusenow bound by tragic melody as strident calls echo in tunetwo paired hearts so powerlesscourting potion through to doomthe harmony of life’s sunrisenow blurred by darkened cloudsbut the weightless souls eternalentwine beyond the sodden ground I wrote this poem for this week’s We’ave Written Weekly atContinue reading “Tristan & Isolde”
I heard a wilted flower speak
one morning, bland and weak,I heard a wilted flower speakof our future tribulationsof our far-off destinationsour technicolor tapestrylife’s seeming mystery to mea tightly coiled secret kepta trepid toil oversteppedthe whisper of earth’s voicea shiver scattered once or twicelike autumn’s petals in the windall our summer days rescinded This poem was written for this week’s Wea’veContinue reading “I heard a wilted flower speak”
Black spruce sentry
A century-old sentry, I’ve stood vigilantat the river’s edge.A surveyor of nature’s glory:the glisten of crisp iceand snowmelt that poolsat my roots,the flicker of the moon’swarm glow scamperingacross my branches,smoother than the boldstare of summer’s sunrays,or the wind that stirs needles and flowers culled from my shadows by deer and hare, or the eddies thatContinue reading “Black spruce sentry”
Words and Coffee Writing 