Broad leaves, raindrops pooled,
funneling later to roots
thirsty in the sun
Thunderstorms puddle
watery lakes on broad leaves,
Nature’s reservoirs
Deep throats open to
botanical champagne flutes
drink a dewy toast
The setting sun
breathes fire
across the sky,
vivid red, orange and fuchsia flames
licking the backs
of clouds
over the calm, deep waters
of Lake Michigan.
Perched atop a sand dune
we watch
as it nods earthward
ducks its head under the blanket of the horizon
and turns out the lights.
The scene a suburban lawn
a row of geese
waddling slowly across the grass
all suddenly freeze
and time stops. Continue reading
April – what a month. I ushered it in with my annual April 1 (bunny bunny) reading of T.S. Eliot’s “The Waste Land,” then spent almost the entire remainder of the month reading and listening (and reading and listening, and reading and listening) to Leonard Cohen’s last book, The Flame. At month’s end, I had read the tactile book twice and listened to it on CD at least four times, if not five (starting in March). It was worth every minute. In between, I got to see Andrea Gibson perform, and read a lot of other poetry by a wide range of authors. I read poetry every single day of April, and it was a blessing. I also wrote poetry every day, although not all of it got published here. Here are all the pieces that did. There also were pieces I started and am still working on, pieces I discarded, and little snippets that found life only on my Twitter stream. Case in point:
April Sunrise when even the treetops don Easter bonnets and parade their new finery for all to see, dazzling yellow-green spring foliage glowing high against the western sky
— Kim Kishbaugh (@kkish) April 27, 2019