Posts
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A Story Whirls Into View
My feet spin my bike pedals,
Pushing me along the trail
As stories invade my focus.
My mind swirls,
Colors whirl,
As ideas emerge from the flurry.
Names fill my head,
Plots come into view,
Places teleport into my thoughts. -
A Capability of Beauty
The warm, salty waves wash away,
Swirling patterns in the sand,
Sending crabs and clams
Burrowing into the rock grains.
The waves churn the sand,
Uncovering, leaving behind,
Delivering small,
Delicate treasures: -
A Glowing Aura of Relaxation
The sun dips behind the mountains,
Only some of the light shines,
A peachy aura emerging.
The whispy clouds hover gracefully,
Letting themselves drift with the wind,
The peace settling into the mist,
Refracting the glow, -
Appreciating Where Flowers Will Emerge
I trace my fingers across the grass,
the little green shards,
the silky plants tickling my skin.
It has survived the winter,
the dry brown it had become
slowly disappearing,
turning rich green from the sun. -
Getting Where I Want to Go
My sneakers hit the pavement,
The constant sound of the thwapping filling the nipping,
Early spring air.
My breath comes slow but heavy,
Before being like a soft summer breeze,
Now like a strong wind, -
An Interacting Community of Light
I stare out the plane window,
gazing at the illuminated buildings.
The clusters of orange and yellow lights,
forming the shapes of roads,
streets, and homes.
They spread out like a map,
inky darkness showing the desolate areas,
Loves
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Outlook
The outlook you have is the reflection you will see.
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Sentence
No matter what, it will get better.
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what a week this year has been
I go through weeks like I do sheets of paper, or hair ties, or poems.
I use them all up but I can't remember what I wrote.
Years are like that too. Someone asks what I did last Monday
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The Women
The two of them sit on the porch
basking in the sunlight
letting their toes explore the first
frost-bitten mud of spring
Talking about life and death and sex
and little Mika's school play
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Is That What You're Wearing?
“Is that what you’re wearing”
She says
Not as a question
But a judgment
A cold declaration
That I’m doing something wrong
