leaves chattered in breeze
on a lone tree in the field
conversation heard
Heidi Sands
8/30/26
(C)opyright
He grinned broadly from the corner
a percussive serrated smile,
cadaverous lips displaying
a rakish scarecrow style.
His emaciated figure chattered
suspended precariously from a hook;
I was completely startled
by his penetrating look.
His wink was disconcerting,
those vacant eyes held wide;
I wouldn’t call him cheeky
though he displayed a gangly pride.
One arm extended slightly
as if inviting my embrace;
it might feel a little morbid
held against that hollow face.
Gothic trends might call him charming
though his apparel seems unique,
one would only see it hanging
in a nudist colony boutique.
One dance was all he wanted
waltzing the orthopedic floor,
that physician’s skeletal dummy
I just couldn’t make myself ignore.
July 31, 2026
Skeletons Poetry Contest
Seth Pina, Sponsor
sat in the sun
while the goldfinches
chattered,
acknowledged
in their lesser shades
of glory
I sat in the shadow
of a red oak tree
and drew their feathered,
frantic souls
next to stiller,
yellower
houses
next to a stiller,
yellower sun
A squirrel did scamper down the garden path,
his tiny paws clasped tight around a bouquet.
He dodged a rake, a hose, and a birdbath~
determined not to drop a single spray.
The tulips bobbed like dancers in a breeze,
their colors shouting louder than his size.
He paused to sneeze (for pollen makes him wheeze),
then struck a pose as if to win a prize.
Neighbors peered out, unsure of what they saw~
a florist? a thief? a furry little knight?
But he just chattered, clutching stems in awe,
intent on keeping every bloom upright.
And when he reached his nest—oh, what a sight:
a tulip throne for one small lord of light.
A squirrel named Sunny Sip
found brunch on someone’s trip~
a glass of bright mimosa
left sparkling by the chair.
He took a tiny taste,
declared it quite first-rate,
then chattered to the blue jays
about citrus in the air.
Soon he was swishing proudly,
tail swirled and lifted loudly
the forest’s tipsy bruncher
preferred his brunch with fizzy flair.
It was a Christmas Eve.
Wearing my casual winter outfit
I set out for my granny’s home,
a mile away from my dwelling.
The moon rising from the horizon
spread its soft glow all around.
Under my feet, on the snow-clad ground,
the silhouettes of the snow laden trees,
appeared to me as the spirits of the dead.
The dilapidated houses with icicles under their roofs,
loomed up to me like the ghosts with mouths open wide.
Silence everywhere, and not a soul nearby,
I felt that I was haunted by them at every step.
My heart pounded out of my chest
and my teeth chattered beyond my control.
This unusual jugalbandi made me unconscious.
When I awoke, I was in a hospital bed,
cold to the bone and wet through with the sweat.
He walked along the cobbled streets,
a terrible freezing gloaming, frosted air.
Snow crystal upon snow crystal
dampen the arctic gelidity:
his head was chilled, his teeth chattered
and frostbite raked his fingertips.
He turned, shuffling into a side street.
Fear clutched his heart, but he felt valiant
and entered boldly her heated abode.
She waited for him, slouching on her sofa.
He was quick to notice her stern face,
a contrast to her gentle eyes,
that shone like the silvery stars.
Could he detect some pathos there?
Uncertain, he knew how unpredictable she was.
A stunning figure on show for him.
He pleaded:
“Shield me from the freezing night.”
Her cat-like smile formed on her ruby lips.
“Am I that unwelcome, my sweet?
Grant me a few moments of bliss.
just one ruddy, wanton, lingering kiss,
Then I'll be off and leave you in peace,
the peace I shall never find.”
It was not to be—the finality of love.
The air outside was colder still.
His life would be melancholy forevermore.
He talked and talked,
gig talker,
on and on.
Didn’t hear about Julie’s love for Gordon and Jilted John.
Conversed selfishly throughout the Buzzcocks explaining Why it had gone wrong.
Missed Shelley’s quips,
Missed all the song.
Held a debate through The Bunnymen’s Ocean rain.
A heated discussion missing how The Cure were Jumping on someone else’s train.
An absolute pain.
Didn’t take the hint from a backward glance as Kraftwerk rode mountain passes on the tour de France and the Ramones asked if we wanted to dance.
Chattered incessantly whilst the Stranglers hung around and ruined tomorrow’s parties enraging Nico and Velvet underground.
Too loud.
Prattled away as Joy Division played,
killing the Atmosphere.
Morrissey pleaded Please please please but he still didn’t hear.
Bad gig combination Charlie and beer.
To cap it off on his way home,gabbling into his mobile phone, the irony wasn’t lost on us. He never heard it coming, the night bus.
Hit him square,his brand new Primark Nirvana t shirt matted with blood and hair.
(Sing)
“Keep you mind on your driving
Keep you hands on the wheel
Keep your snoopy eyes on the road ahead.“
Should’ve f***ing listened.
I built my home high up in a giant oak tree
two kookaburras and an owl lived next to me
the day birds chattered all morning, conversation bright
hoot owl kept up a continuous hooting throughout the night
an orangutan moved in showing off his big red butt
I could not ignore it, so moved down to a hut
saw the shadow of a lion through my tent one night
moving to a houseboat tomorrow, trying to get it right
It was just like before riding my bicycle along the beach my tire rolls right over a star fish braising bump and scratches on my knee the gulf was thirsty for human blood this year as the manatees floated belly up the pelicans shivered with empty beaks again the school of sharks gathered while the dolphins danced chattered sea urchin washed ashore I put salt water on my wounds feeling sad that the sea turtles rushed back to sea unaware of the mexican oil spill there home covered in black tar I walked my bike passed the book store just in time for bob crab shacks oyster bar funny the owner yelled come on in gal why you looking so blue in that moment the blue oyster became my signature name on the beach the sun shined the breeze blew softly over the nape of my back silence abode over the Caribbean Sea
Quite
cheery
I left home
on a bright morn' ...
The trees were lively
and birds chattered and sang ~
Happy and optimistic
I walked with a high bouncy step
feeling whimsical and fanciful
saying how are you to all those I met ...
Numbness poisoned flowers
spooky nights serenaded
with chattered cowers,
wounded grasp cascaded
panicked voices bloomed
mother's smile paraded
with gleams doomed,
yearning hopeless answers
as death roamed.
Garrulous old man
Who chattered like a magpie
Is my grandfather.
The Angelic choir of Journey Fight welcomed our Uncle Bo. The sun was warm, the atmosphere was brisk, and the wind brought chills down my spine. An aroma of sage filled the air as my mother and I followed a trail. The sea otters chattered amongst themselves in the bay.
On our way to the Sea Lion Point trail to spread Bo’s ashes. I sat on a substantial rock and watched my mother spread my uncle’s ashes at his favorite place at Point Lobos as the wind whispered, carrying Bo across the vast blue expanse where he wanted to be. We said our goodbyes, and raindrops began to fall from our eyes. Bo’s spirit will always be here forever, at our special place. Point Lobos is where I go to visit my Uncle Bo.
My Uncle will eternally be in our hearts, and never, apart, there will always be a void in our lives.
We're worlds apart
It seems to me
Unknown before
So blissfully
Unaware
That friendship
Stalked
This earthly plane
Until we talked
Once
And then again,
Again, again
We chitter-chattered
Just present
Spirits
Catching up lost
Time
Was all that mattered
Maybe mixed in
With much time
Passing
Some healing-love
Perhaps amassing
Not quite
Romantic
A different kind..
The sort that souls
Do rarely find
But when that
Rare
And precious heart
Beats in time
With words that
Rhyme
Right from the start
On this one view
We altercate
You say it's
Luck
I call it
Fate
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