(a story in 4 Senryus)
Dew gently pools on
the rich green Bermuda blades
of suburban lawns.
Walking across grass
soaks your shoes like a splashing
child in a puddle.
Your passage diagrammed,
by wet, green tracks that trace your
path like virgin snow.
Proof you were here, real,
a charming gift watched through chaste
glass - that made me cry.
i seemingly slur
only a sigh
a maiden waiting
every rounded
syllable
diagrammed
breathing room
where worms roam
and angels fly
i pinch my own
cheeks, healthy
no blood rises
cherry juice
fills my eyes
when truth shouts
proverbial monkey
eyes, ears, mouth
covered
the fan spins
a pendulum swings
i ponder
honesty speaks
as snowy hair
from an eagle’s nest
a child rests
on her lap
leaning into love
learning to fly
cracking of shell
severe
the child grabs
for air
falling, feeling
the eagle swoops
releasing feathers
headdress rendering
wise wings catch
current events
survey the land
8/11/2018
(James 1:19-20 NIV) My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.
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