Time of Year

It is the time
of grey skies
and dead brown grass
along the roadsides.
The time when the trees
are seen shivering,
their limbs quivering in their nakedness.
When even many of the evergreens drip down
brown, bloodied from the lethal knife wounds
of a sharpened frenzied freeze
as they sag into their deaths.
Yes, it is that time of year
when I yearn
for the green of spring,
for limbs to wrap myself within,
for a renewal of promises
I once longed to make.
The time of year
when I empty forty years
of myself.

Tightrope

(Maria Spelterini crossing the Niagara gorge on a tightrope, 1876)
Image courtesy of
i.imgur.com



Since I drove right by it

on my GPS selected route

on my way to dinner

with friends,

I had to stop:



Here now— pulled over, paying reverence,

to time, youth, innocence, tragedy

When we loved each other

in this home we made together.



Here— this moment of reverence paid

unlocks the door of a room

where you are kept

preserved in perfection,

untainted by guilt

by tragedy

by the judgement

I rendered upon you

in my innocent ignorant self-righteousness

and so unleashed our tragedy upon us.



Now— could I travel that twisted high wire of time

back through the forty years

yet keep the wisdom of lessons

learned of forgiveness and judgment—

we would be young lovers

starting out again

and I would gift

you treasures of ancient gods and goddesses—

olive oil, an olive tree to plant,

casks of rose water,

roughly hewn amber, the mythic tears,

in which we could be captured.



I raise my head, turn my eyes to the road ahead,

locking the door to that place

where you are kept

preserved in perfection:

Sitting in the window seat,

your head tilted to the light,

sunlight glistening off your copper color hair,

smile wide as you lift your drawing pad
and pencil,

and begin to sketch,

your thin lovely hand floating
in movement above the page.

There,I leave you once again,

As I drive away.







 

 

 

 

 

When

Image courtesy of Kanascitymag.com

https://godoggocafe.com/2021/07/06/tuesday-writing-prompt-challenge-tuesday-july-6-2021/

Today’s prompt— Write a poem using evanescence, trill, and longevity.

When

           dreams held up the sky

           the edge of sea could cleanse a soul

           magic chimed in the songs of birds

           the universe trilled with vibrancy contained in starlight

           the evanescence of our lives unquestioned

 

then hope, golden and shining, possessed eternal longevity.

Jacob’s Hip

maristmessenger.co.nz
https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2020/11/14/weekend-writing-prompt-183-wrangle/

Wrangle words, twist defenses

Round heart and soul,

You need the bricks

Behind which

You hide, denying

the blackness all see

Of the hate you spit.

Remember Jacob’s hip

After wrestling with God.

A Time of Transition

Image courtesy of Mark Carthy/Shutterstock

https://amanpan.com/2020/08/24/eugis-weekly-prompt-transition-august-24-2020/

 

Sing softly to me

Among the verdant trees

Of our youthful revelry,

Where memory sins

With aging fire,

Lightning to a soul’s dark soil,

Giving fire life within

As your song soothes

An aging heart.

 

In Our Youth

Image Courtesy of SueVincent.com
https://scvincent.com/2020/07/16/thursday-photo-prompt-glisten-writephoto/

 

You glisten always.

Lighting no difference–

In pitch black even,

You glisten,

As if oiled

With diamonds.

My heart twisted, bent,

Burned by the prism

Of your light.