Best Althea Poems

The tennis ball 
Whacked over the net 
Is whacked back again 
Sometimes. 
It is a tough leather that ball. 
But this respiratory thing 
That sucks the air from our lung 
Teams against the self to win. 
Now you are whacked 
Over the line by it,...

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Morning light bleeds color into the smoky night
The orb of dawn seeps out from behind the hills
Pieces at a time until made perfect
at the crest of a knoll.

Awakened in a mound of earth is a withered flower
Stroked back to life by golden fingers
Petals soft and...

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