Nov 25

My heart beats so

My heart beats so forcefully
When I write of the poem I wrote
And when the caterpillar takes bites
Out of the juicy leaf.

Do you love me?
And, can God be a sort-of-real thing only when we want?
Or, can bubbles last forever?
Neverpopping --- the way I wish friendship could be.

My memories of you disappear.
Washed down the drain.
The table in front of us melts.
Leaving sadness and sorrow to be best friends.






#COW2017
Form: three four-line stanzas. The first stanza begins with "If," the second with "Then," and the third with "Therefore." (I have taken out the if, then, therefore.) A prompt given by Karin Gottshall at COW2017.
Nov 21

Fence

[Photo Credit: YWP Photo Library, photo by Grace Safford] Taken from Challenge

I wonder why there is a fence here. Is it to keep me out? To keep something else in? To keep me in and them out? Why must we be separated? What is the point, the purpose of this barrier? Is it a necessity?
Nov 21

In Love (MadCap: Non-Magnetic Poetry)

Nov 21

Details (MadCap: Non-Magnetic Poetry)

Nov 21

Silvi (MadCap: Character Bowl)

Silvi, 32, a card shark. Always looking for the hustle.

Tonight, she can be found in the small club downtown, wearing blue stilettoes and an ivory evening dress, a patterned shawl draped over her shoulders and Foofoo sitting on the booth seat next to her.

Her little dog, the kind that fits in a purse, the kind that some people call a "purse rat," his name was Foofoo. Yes. Cringe. But, really, we should feel sorry for Foofoo.

He never understood what this "hustle" was that Silvi was always looking for. She carried him around in her blinged-out, overpriced, leopard print hand bag and ruffled up his little head saying "Foofoo, there's the hustle. I see it. We're almost there..... Mama's gonna her her hustle."
Oct 27

Road Creatures

There are so many creatures on the road this fall. They scare me quite often when I am driving. It is startling to suddenly catch sight of a little thing inching across the road, fluttering from spot to spot above the blacktop, or scurrying in zig zags on its tiny little nonexistent paws. My heart inside seizes, signaling my reflexes that soon they might be needed. And then, all at once, just as abruptly as it came, the tightness splits off and the warning disperses. Before me, remains. The curled, dried leaves as they stick to the road, taunting and stooging, their spirits aglow.







Oct 26

I Snapped (October 26th, 2017)

Oct 07

Snapshots of a Far Too Warm October

I saw at least two bumble bees today
On heads of pink-red clover.
They were moving slowly
And they weren't buzzing.


The air isn't fresh and crisp
The way fall air should be.
It doesn't nip at my cheeks in the morning
Nor make me wish I'd put a jacket on when I go out to lock up the chickens at dusk.


Leaves are reluctantly accumulating on the ground
Hardwoods are shifting to reds and yellows
But the turning leaves just aren't convincing
The lack of bird song isn't fitting, instead it's comfortless.


The sunlight isn't golden in that flawless autumn way
It doesn't illuminate grey-brown branches and weathered siding
It doesn't warm and slow the day until time stops in the glowing syrup of autumn afternoons
When high schoolers abandon homework for walking into town and lingering in the grass.

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