Monday, June 20, 2011

Magpie, 6/20/11


She had always been an amazing psychic.
He had once had an autographed photo
just like this one.When he found this at
a yard sale on Saturday; he had not thought
of her in years. He phoned another good friend
immediately; and was shocked to hear her say
"Sheila just passed away,didn't you see it in the paper?
Her Memorial service is on Wednesday- Please come!!"




Monday, June 13, 2011

Magpie, 6/13/11











They looked around,
no child.
Where had Chyrstal gone ?
Then on the  floor by the back door
Mary found the little shell.
" Beach!" She yelled to her husband
and they were off;
over the gritty wooden deck,
leaping onto soft and shifting sand.
Stumbling up to the firmer pack
Mom shaded her eyes- "There John-"
Sure enough the youngster was crouched
intently plucking at something in the damp
as the waves rolled in.






Saturday, June 11, 2011

Flash fiction 55, 6/10/11

It tapered three stories
into the sky,
once a long time ago
under this spire,
a bell had sung
people toward double doors below.

We do not know when
the bell was gone,
we do not know why
a snake of wind reached down
and toppled just that gray
wood and slate upon this ground

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Poetry Jam, Lozenge / One Shot Wednesday,

Yes they can -be hidden safely, see ? 
Unbruised.
Coming off a sad, sad time- they fit in well with genuine beauty.

Were you up all night listening to the foot steps passing,
did you go to the window like the poem told you to; and watch ?

This morning were you willing to feel the wrenching of regret, again ?
You do still want to push truth away : The procession has gone by!
Did you look them in the eye? That opportunity is over, done.

Apples: may share shape, shine, even color range;
but for flavor Cherries win.
If I were to paint one more fruit, it would be them.

They can surpass sadness
being chewed,
going down the throat
falling toward my heart.





Sunday, June 5, 2011

Sunday 160

Exhaustion looms
a blackening shadow,
after days of sorting
debris and cutting trees
tangled and mangled
by a quarter mile wide tornado.
Our town is rising.