April 7 Spring continued

so . . . it rained snow &

crisp, raw, clean air

& one wet robin 

April 6

interstice

analog clock hand

movement sounding

before moving

pianissimo

rain drop 

between molecules of air falling

without landing

April 5: Prompts

the danger

of depending on others' words

is losing your own

the danger

of depending on others' words

is seeing beyond yourself

April 4: Still Life

each piece of the still life

is rendered to perfection

yet each seems slightly        suspended

above the                                   reality of the table

as though the arranging is     not         yet       complete

as though each piece

needs to find         a place of comfort

in a discomforting space . . .

april 3

today soft-raining

not a day to wrestle words

spring awakening

Standing on a muddy road . . .

at the field’s edge:

a thin tree

2 slim wires

electric, prone to brown outs

telephone, party line:

1 for him

1 for us

1 ring for him

2 rings for us

or the

other way

around?

6-4610

1958

no

calls

now

Hummingbird - Musically Speaking

I am waiting for you.

Where do you wait?

In Florida with retirees?

South along the Gulf of Mexico?

All the way home

to sunny Mexico?

Is anyone left there to call you huitzitzilin?

I am waiting for you.

Will you come?

To New England spring?

North to our garden?

I will grow you fresh flowers.

I will surprise you

with a new name.

I am waiting for you.

Will you come?

I will call you ariette.

Because you are a lively character.

You dart at each other endlessly:

a comic dialogue

among the flowers.

Florentine Codex 16th c. - Getty Edu.

Time recaptured . . .

train ride, end of March

cherry blossom south back north

spring can start again

Global Poetry Writing Month: April 2025

 

That time of year again.

Some years have been full of words.

Others less so.

Always worth a go, though.

To see the plethora of poets, go to:

NaPoWriMo

Ice Out

March watches the ice
breathe its snow cover

into the air,

fog, mist, haze rise;

each morning revealing

less ice, more fluid.

March hears the ice

creak, roll over, 

shake off its skim;

gales and blasts shout until

one morning conjures

spring from winter.

a few hours before midnight

Snow came near the turning of the year;

rain on warmer days washed it away:

the weather is undecided as to the season

Follow the coyote's tracks

watch the deer eat acorns in the yard

hear the chickadees cheer each other on

Won't let the new year pose

too many unanswerable questions

. . . will just wait and see . . .