On the cusp of Adventwith the fires litbut the bells still stowed awayin closets, cabinets, boxes, and shelvesall decoration tremblinglike tinsel in a soft breezewaiting for the starting whistle the blessed season stirs in its slumbersubtle movements behind the eyelidsshow signs of awakening the dawn holds its breath in anticipationheralding that midnight long agowhen theContinue reading “The Waiting”
Tag Archives: seasons
Nostalgia is a warm soft beddowny, drowsy, a burrowwell insulated by last year’s leaf-fallthe earth turned and fragrantwelcoming a snug hollowwhere memory can dwell what slept all year awakens nowbrought forth by the changing light,the yawning season stretches and emergesbedhead crazy wild withprolonged hibernation,stuck with twigs and leaves like an old nest the kitchen fillsContinue reading “Remembrance”
Summer Song | Solstice
These days of sun and languorwhere a cool breeze brings aclash with Mother Nature,interrupting what she’s busycooking up, with a clash ofpots and pans her face likea thunderclap she shoutsfrom the threshold, letting anoven blast unleash fromthe open door This time of cats in pools oflight from the blazing windowand dogs smiling in theshade, tonguesContinue reading “Summer Song | Solstice”
Fall’s delightFire’s light Winter’s lairDen’s bear Spring’s quickeningGreen’s thickening Summer’s bountyChildhood’s county This poem from my Medium archive was from a prompt on the pub Genius in a Bottle (on seasons, I think).
Cleopatra rolled up in a rugsmuggled in to see Caesarworming her way into infamyEvery day the light is changingSlyly summer transformslittle by little into autumnsuch small moveswe hardly even notice the fall I realize it’s not quite the right time of year for this poem, but my copy-paste-repeat diligence from my Medium archive knows noContinue reading “September”
stripped down now,she adorns herself with winteran invisible layer exposed by absencea rough coat of ragged barkand spindled stickswith a scarf of last summer’s decay little birds hop at her shoulderswhile squirrels dig at her feetthe hoard of autumn now silentthe revelry of abundanceput away but also strewn about everything suggests the whiff of iceeverythingContinue reading “Earth”