Thursday, November 16, 2017

Scatter


Scatter

I watch the birds scatter.
Is something the matter?

Are they startled into flight
by some sound or sight?

Or, is this their unique way
to mark the start of a new day?

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Tuesday, November 14, 2017

The Artist Sees


The Artist Sees

the shapes of the leaves.
the patches of color.
the lines entwined.
the darkness of the bark.
the tilt of the trunk.
the painting in the trees.

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Thursday, November 9, 2017

Monday, November 6, 2017

Everything Looks Gray


Everything Looks Gray

There are days
when everything
looks gray, as
though night won't
quite give way.

It's not dark
but damp and hazy,
all the edges fuzzy.
I strain to see but
can't brighten up
the image.

I yearn for a
Kodachrome slide.

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Thursday, November 2, 2017

Morning Calls


Morning Calls

The gull is herald
of a new day.
Throws back its
head and cries out.

What does it mean,
this morning scream?

Is it a wake up
call to others
or the exclamation,
"I'm still here."

The 2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge is underway. This is the poem I wrote for day one. The prompt is new day. Good luck to all the poets who are poeming and the prosets who are doing NaNoWriMo. Have a fun and productive November.

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Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Ghosts


Ghosts

The townsfolk think the house is empty.

They can't see  
the footprints on
the floors.

They can't smell
the scents in
the woodwork.

They can't hear
the voices in
the air.

This place is filled with
everydays and holidays
and horrible days.

Its inhabitants are memories.

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Thursday, October 26, 2017

Left Behind


Left Behind

The seaweed feels
the tide recede.
It has been left
at the waters edge,
a decoration
on the sand.
It feels the drying
heat of the sun
and the careless
stomps and kicks
of humans.
It can do nothing
but wait for the sea to return
and sweep it up again.

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Tuesday, October 24, 2017

By the Sea


By the Sea

It's one of those weeks
when the tourists flock.
They seek a break
from their mundane.
Yearn to capture
the spectacular.
But, I'm at home here.
I love the routine.
The rhythm of the waves.
The sound of the wind.
The boats that go out.
The friends who drop in.
There is nothing I
would rather do
than spend a day
by the sea.

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Thursday, October 19, 2017

Breakthough


Breakthrough

Keep watch.
You will see signs.
A spot of light shows
on the horizon.
Colors come and go,
intensify or lighten.
The revelation may
be slow or fast,
be gone in seconds
or last and last.
Be ready.
You may sense
the breakthrough,
but it comes in
its own time.

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Thursday, October 5, 2017

Beauty


Beauty

Beauty comes to us
and sits
to let us take it in.
Imprints its colors
and its lines
upon our minds
so we may go to it
in the times
when such beauty
is hard to find.

I'm going to take a fall break. The next post will be October 19.

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Tuesday, October 3, 2017

Balance


Balance

The robin appears
to be standing
on one foot,
trying to keep
his balance in
the same old
place. In reality,
he is caught
in mid step
and will soon
be moving forward.

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Thursday, September 28, 2017

A Graceful Exit


A Graceful Exit

The duck swam
in the pond
like a mini-boat
leaving it's wake
behind it.
It sometimes joined
the others, but
more often, traveled
on its own.

When it neared the shore
the duck spread its wings
and propelled itself
onto the stone.
The time had come
to make a graceful exit.

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Tuesday, September 26, 2017

In the Background


In the Background

What is in
your background?

Are there more
weeds or flowers?

Is the count
important?

Or, is the issue
to which do you

give  the  power?


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Thursday, September 21, 2017

Tuesday, September 19, 2017

When Fall Arrives


When Fall Arrives

When fall arrives,
a different beauty
lives in the trees.
The leaves put on
a colorful show
before they let go.

When fall arrives,
the air turns cool.
Not cold enough
to make us hide,
but we use a
jacket to go outside.

When fall arrives
and summer ends,
the birds take wing,
leave town and then
make us wait till spring
to see them again.

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Thursday, September 14, 2017

Workday Blues


Workday Blues

Standin' out in
the afternoon sun.
Can't move on 'til
the work is done.

Wings are spread, but
I can't fly away.
Just have to get
through another day.

Each one seems
to be the same.
Do what I can.
Don't place any blame.

When this one
comes to an end,
I'll get some sleep
then start again.

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