Wednesday, October 26, 2016

October 26, 2016 dVerse: First Things First

First Things First

how hard it is to determine what is first          what is not                   with letters

we know it is an “a”                and with numbers                    we know it is “1”                   

but how to remember the first breath               the first thing we saw              the first touch

the first sound of our mother's heart                beating /beating            as if it would beat forever

without knowing                     one day                                    a day unknown to us

would be the last beat              and only then                           the first silence we would know

only slowly                             these things become known to us        everything begins

and ends                                  as we do ourselves                              while we don't remember

all the things that came first     hopefully we will be awake                 and present

for what will come last            last smile                                 last day

last memory                             last goodbye                            last breath

is the last leaf on the tree in fall           the first or the last leaf to appear in spring       hard to determine

what is first/what is not           is the first snowflake to fall in winter  first birdsong in spring

first grain of sand on the beach           first wave to touch the shore               first kiss from my lover

last bear killed in the forest                last spider to crawl across the floor                 last breath

and how to count all that comes between                    first                                      ...and last

October 15, 2016


Sunday, October 23, 2016

October 23, 2016 The Sunday Whirl Wordle #271 --Sunday Whirligig #82 -- Poets United Poets Pantry/ In Dark and Hidden Places

In Dark and Hidden Places

i look for you      in the woodland        the desert too

most of the leaves have fallen     the last leaves      wheeling to the ground

the essence of sadness     the color all gone             the trees stand naked

quietly they wait      for the first snow of winter      transforms the landscape

i look for you           at twilight                   day is done

voices low                the fires burn              i warm myself

night is not far behind       without purpose             i drift

like fallen snow     tell my story once again        search for someone

who will listen        understanding               hard to find

i look for you         when the sun rises           above taos mountain

it is lighter now     i stand at the edge of the pool       myself reflected

a woman grown old     years too numerous to count     still i collect the bones

from birth to death        i wander in the desert                i am fully awake

i look for you         in one thousand dark and hidden places        step quietly

breaking no twigs      silently moving in the woodland     fearing the beat of my heart

will give warning      to those who thrive there                  an echo bounces

from the canyon wall        untangles the mysteries             the unspoken explanations

i look for you             on the distant horizon         for the dust that rises from your pony

years spent in the looking     the search my passion    plants whisper they have seen you

still the way is not clear       i delve into ancient books                  you are the one

not my lover                         but my beloved                                  my only son

October 23, 2016

Note: Never knowing where the words will lead when I begin, it is always a surprise. This time I used them all. Are there ever words enough to say, how much we miss the ones we love? To ask where are they? Where have they gone? Words enough to explore what we are thinking?

Sunday, October 16, 2016

October 16, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig #81/ The Sunday Whirl #270/ Poets United Poets Pantry/ In Search of Prince Charming

In Search of Prince Charming

draw a line in the sand      say you have reached your limit      perhaps that line fades

you draw another              settle down to breakfast                    early morning

bread in the skillet to fry      the butter spins/flips/and spits       kick old memories 
                                                                                                             out of the way

clear a path for a new day      insulate yourself from the cold    don armor

pour a cup of tea                  set the table                                    with the fine porcelain

i stand on the rim                  look skyward                               lightening flashes

tuck desires back into my purse       mimic normal behavior             we are all flawed

from birth                          we try to slip into the glass slippers           an old story

only the girl whose feet fit        otherwise retrace your steps              go back to “go”

the ancestral trail is worn          prayer won't help                      you are who you are

the stage is set                     begin your day                        knowing your feet won't fit

October 16, 2016

Sunday, October 9, 2016

October 9, 2016 Sunday's Whirligig #80 -- The Sunday Whirl #269 -- Poets United Poets Pantry/Memories of Summer

Memories of Summer

regrets                  lie around                like dead flowers in the garden

the season for fresh blooms     is gone           i prepare for winter

leaving wet suits           on the line                  summer's laughter fleeting

yet my heart is filled        with the warm cargo of summer        beach parties

picnics              hold the shell to your ear          gentle breezes heard

waves pound the shore                        seagulls scream           the sun sets in the west                                                                                              

regrets left behind        to return another season         with thoughts of you

hearts entwined with silver thread         there is no danger we will forget

our tongues lap warm milk from the bowl                        you were torn from me

years gobbled up                     your brindled coat thrown over the chair

your presence remains              memories of summer   fill my heart

from the bridge             i see the ship               leaving shore  

mist settles in               the view becomes obsure         the afternoon light

lingers              still, i try to follow the ship         until out of sight          

there is a trail across the water             white foam       reflections of sky

with a tiny needle         i make small stitches                 to hold memories together

bind pages into the book         whisper words              hoping you will hear                

October 7, 2016