After midnight the storm’s breathcame fast and fierce betweenthe houses, snuffingtrees and patio furniturelike errant candlesit gripped the stars and stripeslike a sail, unmooringour flagship with a single blowso it drifted into thedepths of the gardenfences folded like ahouse of cards, harkeningto the maelstrom’s beguiling whistle But you would never knowit now – if itContinue reading “After the Front”
Tag Archives: creative life
Breath
The wind will shift from south to north again
as the earth tilts her way along the year
and my breath will enter the tapestry
as I weave my own way along, in time.
Morning Song
This morning a song is happening. . . .
Scrutiny, 2
ridiculous: the difference
from aquatic birth to
solid earth, so far north
to deepest south
espresso sings: hand to mouth
Scrutiny, 1
Floating in my cup of tea:
the bric-a-brac chunk leftovers
from the small scoop of flavorful dust
I stirred in, along with honey. . . .
I Am
. . . . realize that I am late. I am going to need more time, at least a week. After that, I will be back and set it all right.”. . . .
Prose Pose
Baudelaire said to be drunk, always, so this morning I am choosing tea and sunshine. . . .
Fishing for Ekphrasis in an Urban Lagoon, 2
like I know my body
like my soul knows that one day
it will answer a magnetic call
of its own
“Nothing is Static or Neutral”
Ferocious as a violin
whose bow knows constant friction
this morning saw the day begin
with nature’s noisy diction
Daughter
you:
my one
and only
my messenger
into future years
The Poetry Patio 