3
Green and goldenrod are the seeds we planted.
Their colors alarmingly cheerful on a gray misty morning.
They belong to the sun.
The storm bursts from blackness
just as the clock strikes the hour
of ghosts and nightmares.
It approaches, an army of ogres
whose marching feet shake the ground,
whose battle cries split the clouds.
It banshee-wails around the eaves,
assails the tin roof with a hundred
angry fists, demanding entry.
It throws knives of fire at the earth.
The forest struggles to run, bends,
twists, seeking to escape burning.
Come morning, the air is soft, the fields
a placid green. Only injured trees, lost
limbs, speak of the battle of giants.
rain beats down on metal
vision clouded by the fell
branches downed into the meadow
summer storms make me sentimental
lightning streaks through the sky
thunder rattles the house through july
how the nights and days slowly go by
raindrops fall on my fingertips
wind blows kisses to my lips
i’m enamored, this never ends well
Today a hug healed a part of me that was broken
a part I did not realize was missing.
For the last year and a half I was robbed
of my need to give…to tutor children,
to visit hospitals and nursing homes with
Clancy my therapy dog.
At the end of our first 30 minute session
just learning about each other, some
reading and writing my 7 year old
match gave me a big hug goodbye
to my surprise! Tears spilled
in the car homeward bound.
Jim, my husband was a hugger.
This past year due to Covid
hugs for me have been
few and far between. My girls
live outta state and I live solo.
Not sure who needed that hug
more, that little man or me.
For this glorious moment,
A conversation in a quiet night.
The spell of the moon calls for truths.
Will my heart find the strength
to take the sword and make fear die?
Open heart, emotions waltz.
Left to where your demons are.
Right to my awaiting arms.
Sway, my love, to the beat of my heart.
Let your companions emerge,
meet their death under the sapphire sky.
Allow the forest’s fresh air
to vent past wounds,
for pain to fertilize sacred soil.
It is you the one fighter
here to plunge into your depths.
Darkness, cold.
Go, face it all.
A conversation in a quiet night.
Open heart, emotions waltz.
Sway, my love, to the beat of my heart.
Take my sword and make fear die.
i don’t think I’m that good at being free
from the fields from the mines
from the tortured adolescence
entire generations could confess a different curiosity
possibly a generosity
for compassionate
fearful nature
and they will still hold regret close
everyone lives and continues to shed
slowly killing the earth of which we are sourced
we have no understanding of energy
Crimson numbers
set against black
blink at me
(11:17 AM,
12:40 PM,
1:00 PM).
Some
obligation
to the day
slips into
my veins.
I get up
(maybe
I can make
this day
better).
I thought
Sex
Equaled
Intimacy
Like
Reading the cover
Of a book thinking
I’m finished
Like
Believing I can play guitar
When I can’t fret a simple chord
Lying there post coitus
Feeling ashamed
I don’t even remember her name
A man is not supposed to treat a women like this
But that’s how they do it in porn
I’m confused
I’ll still brag to my friends
Because they are still little boys too
