The shoreline meanders and we with it
skimming rocks across the sleepy water,
murmuring to each other,
our voices hushed as we watch
for the shimmery flash
of fish surfacing
to snatch an evening meal.
In the distance a solitary fisherman
casts off,
the silken thread from his reel
spinning out into the lake,
offering a too-easy dinner
for any fish lazy or foolish enough
to accept. Continue reading
He turns metal drums into murals,
rescues industrial waste containers
to pound flat
and cut
with intricate patterns,
swans and fish and foliage emerging
from their former prisons of tin,
prigione
released
from the captivity that denied their very existence.
Yesterday’s Poetic Earth Month challenge from Tweetspeak Poetry was to write a poem about a reclamation process. I’m not sure this is a finished poem; it might be just a fragment. What do you think?
Yellow blush dangling nearly out of reach
I stretch on tiptoe to reach you,
pluck you from your home to bring you to mine. Continue reading
I broke your Christmas ornament.
It slipped from careless fingers,
shattered and scattered across the floor.
I stood staring, tears welling in my eyes,
heartbroken,
as if my very memories of you
were in the splintered shards. Continue reading
I’ve spent much of the early part of April, National Poetry Month, reading the poetry of Leonard Cohen. That’s largely because I spent much of the end of March doing the same. I came across Cohen’s last book, The Flame, among my library’s CD books, and brought it home to accompany me on my way to and from work. Halfway through, I went back to the library and got the hardcover book as well.
Food fills our bellies
but it’s drink nourishes our souls.
I’ll eat your pizza,
your cake your pie,
your casseroles dumplings soups and salads
and I’ll give you mine
with a smile.
But what we really need
and always keep on hand
(to share on a moment’s notice or none at all)
is tea,
is coffee. Continue reading