The Language of Flowers

speak to me in the waft ofpetal stamen language pollinate my thoughts witha breath as sweet as the firstwarm wind of spring teach me beauty and brevityand the easy joy of the momentthe wisdom of leaving a simplelife attached to its rootsI know the ruin of clippers and spadesI know the trauma of transplantation showContinue reading “The Language of Flowers”

Dickinson | One Woman Reads Another

It’s a good day for EmilyI sip tea and watch the rainchin in my hand, like any womanprone to flights of fancyand often confined at homesince the spring, our garden has growninto a tangled beastuntamed and freenature gone to seed in glorious abandonunchecked and vivacious as a fertile mindliberated from the chains of societysending outContinue reading “Dickinson | One Woman Reads Another”

The Seven Word Stretch

Rolled up and served upwell seasoned, handed overthere’s a sense of fulfillmentin a duty well done The burning takes placein an open field, after the rain comessmoke sends signals to the sensesinner life, come to life Whatever gets hung from these branchesthe birds will peck at, in timenight rodents will investigateit will keep the insectsContinue reading “The Seven Word Stretch”

Nip | Nostalgia Nibbles Most in Autumn

That nip in the air isthe little ping of nostalgia isa tickle in your nose isthe tantalizing aroma of earth ismingled with wood smoke isozoney comfort of rain coming isa good excuse for baking iscoziness and hominess all rolled into one isa blanket and slipper socks issnug as the cat by the fire isremembering whereContinue reading “Nip | Nostalgia Nibbles Most in Autumn”

In Translation | The Space In Between

The empty space between two peoplewhere everything gets lostvenom floats in the supercharged atmosphereof an argument ready to ignite Words unspoken float in between roomsfill up vacant seats in cars and restaurantsbecome the hollow pillow of regret next to youin the bed while through the open windowlost letters drift falling in fat lazy flakesthat soakContinue reading “In Translation | The Space In Between”

Through a Pinhole

the prick of a pinopens the darkened chamberto light — sufficeswith a broad embracereleases the pressurefrom obscurity, and softlyfocuses the desire to create what our ancestors knewwe refine, from raw to rawin matchboxes, beer cans,tea tins, even books the lightest touchwith piercing and tapebridges the divideflings wide the gate A little poem for World PinholeContinue reading “Through a Pinhole”

Ideal | On Not Waiting for Perfection

They keep Ideal on the top shelfI stand on my tip toes, I still can’t reachit takes a stack of chairs, topped with a pile of booksit takes stealth, so they don’t catch me at iteven at the top, it evades my grasp I push against the cabinetsweat and shove to knock it downbut itContinue reading “Ideal | On Not Waiting for Perfection”

Bask | The Whiskered Exposition of a Verb

She flips and flopsa furry sponge soaking up the sunseeking fiery heat inside or outmaintaining a constant state of roastinside and outhot to the touchpat the pet and watch her glow This poem was in response to a verb prompt. How about those whiskers? The old girl is 100% pampered, 100% loved, 100% of theContinue reading “Bask | The Whiskered Exposition of a Verb”

Me Time | A Mother’s Limerick

Reading in bed, what delight!Yet this “me” time is never quite rightFor as soon as I layI’m so pooped from the dayIt’s as if someone snuffed out the light. The grammar stickler in me worries that the use of “lay” is improper; I’ve left it, however, because of the rhyme. Where are my fellow mamasContinue reading “Me Time | A Mother’s Limerick”