Dawn on spider silk—
A wren's wing brushes one strand,
pearls get rearranged—
web keeps its geometry,
only the dewdrops have gone.
Sea mists on a pane.
A beam of sunlight sneaks through
opening the view
The room fills with fresh insight
the glass was never quite touched.
Moonlight falls on pond.
A reed bends and flits a leaf
from the water's skin.
The stars' reflections remain
unruffled by the ripples.
A loose silver hair
caught upon a jacket sleeve—
deft fingers pause, then
borrow it for half a breath
before the mind can claim it.
A word almost said.
Hangs sharp between two old friends.
A teacup is poured.
steam skims anger flecks aside,
while a spoon stirs the tea leaves.
Mother's soft fingers.
Lift a lash from a boy's cheek—
he never looks up.
A small kindness passes by
unnoticed by either eye.
Sat by the bedside.
She loosens his wedding ring
twists it part aside.
The pale band beneath remains—
pale skin bands outlast the gold.
When last light thins out,
even the gentlest touch fails
to lift what's worn thin—
Outside, moonlight skims the roof;
bounces, flits, and flies away.
Sparrows bob and weave.
They flit across the blue sky,
"Stay away from her!"
home is hollow breath
without the slinking specter—
soft as velvet dusk
with purrs woven into seams
egos stitched with hooked tail flits
a silent stalker
keeper of embers in flame—
you walk where you please
crowning your chosen lap place
with aloofness all at peace
every homely hall
lacks the thrum that makes it beat
until mystery
curls itself beside the soul—
omnipresent whiskered face
*** Bugged ***
Summer is here. A beautiful time of the year, or nearly.
If only it only gave life to the good and better
Of useful insects, while lurring the others
To stay far away!
I check my purchased pantry pest trap.
See if I’ve caught the annoying (cousin of a) gnat,
Who flew around my nose and dinner all winter,
And who it appears
Intends to flit by annoying me for a whole year!
I didn’t think gnats lived that long —
I’ve laid down the glue house for him to settle in
And buzz his wee, dying song.
I’ve wondered if the vast cosmos thinks
Of me similarly,
Declaring over my life
A magical, “Curse that annoyer!” jinx?
Perhaps that’s the reason we humans
Have been taught to be thanful for each new day
And blessed hours as they come,
So like that gnat, (still near me here),
We won’t think in terms of years following years?
——————————————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger 6/20/2023
The clock
tick tack,
slowly flows...
time
nonstop
steadily
so flits .. !
downcast moonless night
bewitched firefly flitting through
victim moaning sea
3/16/2020
Flit and Spin
By Brett Somers
Mind sticking round and round.
Loneliness is that sticking sound.
No pillows of comfort
Nor footstep, firm ground.
Why does my loneliness stick?
My ears make me sick.
Meddlesome they play.
Which way, which way.
Decisively I sway.
Meadows sit and chirp.
Flit and mock.
How I sit and flit.
Flit and rock.
Flit and rock.
Mind sticking round and round
Rubbing stones.
This wonderous wanderlust.
Pondering thus.
A penchant to find
This time in mine.
A vast equator,
balanced incubator.
So as such I sit.
I flit a bit.
Wander and wonder.
I sit.
So weary of not finding it.
I search.
So desperately to find.
My divine –
my craft of soul.
My purposed whole.
So I sit and flit.
Unable to accept it.
My dearest friend,
I write to you.
How did this end?
Or tilted on an axis It spins.
Time It appends.
So alive then am I.
To flit and spin.
Flit and spin.
So I’ll find my axis.
Spin without end.
Butterflies flit
in the light of day,
toying about
exchanging nectar
of early spring
first blossom flush.
Yielding open
fragrant starry
clusters of soft –white
buds and blossoms,
curling tendrils,
of jasmine branches
twining unaided
among the trellis.
After a while at
shades of darkest gray
of twilight, butterflies
depart in tranquil
silence to return
in the light of day
until flowers
slowly wilt and fall
8/19/2016
I’m leaving when the even tide
Descends upon this day
I know of many fleeting hearts
Persistent in this way
Feelings left to fight in squalor
Tell me how it’s fair?
I should hurt myself to learn
That you will never care!
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