Phosphorescent planetary
paths petrify prematurely,
Profoundly powerful
photospheres perish
pathetically,
Prominences polarize,
Propagating parabolic
phantom - shadows,
Preterite plasma - bursts
petrify periodically,
Precipitating permanent,
pitch - black primordial -
gloom,
Prototypical pulsars
paradoxically portend post-
stellar doom,
Profound planetary
patriarchs perish perpetually.
She sits in the marrow of the
quiet house,
stirring cappuccino coffee unit it
grows cold under her
thumb.
His closet door stands wide,
an open throat
exhaling the faint, stolen
scent of cedar and old wool,
while across town, his keys
clink on a different kitchen
counter.
She watches the dust motes
drift through the heavy
shafts of afternoon light,
each one a tiny, forgotten
universe slowing down to
die,
trapped inside the stillness
he left behind when he
chose a younger woman.
The telegraph has forgotten
how to ring, so she speaks
only to the walls,
her voice a thin scraping of
dry leaves against the
floorboards.
She does not wash the
mirror because her own
eyes look back like
strangers,
hollowed out by the shadow
of the woman who took her
place.
When darkness falls, she
wraps herself in the heavy
quilt of her own grief,
listening to the house creak
and settle into its permanent
isolation.
She closes her eyes not to
sleep, but disappear,
wishing the night would
swallow the remainder of her name.
In the spring of '23, at first, all looked pretty and free.
The first year in our new home, we anticipated a beautiful canopy
as the trees began to bear buds and beautiful blossoms. But then
came a late freeze and changed the flow of green. The results were
huge, and the flowers and trees probably were a bit confused.
No different from you or myself, they retreated to return later.
Indeed, they did return but came with lots of limbs and leaves.
So, this summer, the peaches and plums were nonexistent.
All of mankind has learned to never take it personally,
because whether it's bad weather or a dreaded disease,
life and Mother Nature will often refuse to please.
Our Crape Myrtles were not nearly as lovely as last year.
Yet, they are doing their best with never a tear.
And the peach and plum trees have not a single fruit.
The young pecan tree died but fortunately, not from the root.
Two out of three mulberry bushes somehow managed and made it.
Although young, they were fruitful and in them, there was 'no quit'.
They endured both the challenges and the climate change; and they
wisely built defenses, making adjustments and rearrangements.
090523PS
cold breath
freezes,
impressions
of life
dancing
in the winter
moments,
thrusting
light
and shadows,
fingers scoop
at crystals
that float
away
abruptly.
On the window pane
Are raindrops starting
Down the window panel
It is a downpour of rain
On the pavement are puddles
They begin small then
Slowly the puddles grow bigger
The air changes quickly
The puddles freezes
Snow begins to fall
Covering the ground
Quickly with the snow
When time freezes, we lose direction.
It goes by, though, beyond conception.
When time freezes, we lose connection,
With needs and goals beyond description.
When time freezes, we lose affection,
For life at large and its attraction.
When time freezes, we gain reflection,
On things we did with no intention,
On things we do that need correction,
On goals we missed that need attention,
On love we hide that seeks confession,
On plans in mind that seek fruition.
When time freezes, it’s time for action,
To take our souls to a new dimension.
13/04/2021
The robin sits inside an icy cauldron on cold stark metal.
Hiding from the brutal northwestern winds and pounding sleet
Quietly freezing to death in this cold tomb, feeling warmth at the end.
when night freezes---
bonfire gathers charcoal
exploding in heat
winter's rain freezes
ice coats tall southern pine trees...
pow trees snap like twigs
A memory from the winter of 1963/64
I was due with our first child..There was
rain then snow then ice..It melted
enough just in time for me to get
to the hospital..
Two windswept hearts skip a beat
beneath a broken window
Frozen footprints from ice cold feet
as if they didn't know
paint the window sill
and chill a crying crow
with a look to kill
it cries out and dies 'I told you so'
Jealousy jilts the jagged jalousie
into flickering red reflections from once upon a time long ago
Shattered glass gives way to howling winds
but will not give in to Thundersnow
Suddenly, 3am, and four right in a row
Open up thy curtain call
and feel it blow by blow by blow by blow
Thy Kingdom come burning down the hall
with barely a candle glow
While wicked wildfire walks up and down the bedroom wall
impatient as it is slow
Take a bow, thy Final Fall
Thy Kingdom come burning everything down below
I might handle
What you might handle
And we can handle
What we all handle
When we go,
And where we might go
And how we will get there
And what we might do
When we get there,
And what I might see
And what you might notice
And what you might think
And what I might notice
Are just what I know.
As we all handle
What we can handle,
What can you handle?
I'll light a candle
When Hell freezes over.
Why, the old man froze to death
fingers and toes burning,
a slow, painful death, the coroner
says; the neighbors say they tried,
the city never lies, they will shut off
service of essential services,
and so life goes. Why,
the old man froze to death
huddled in double layers.
He’s not alone this season,
‘tis a freezing season, three
reports this week. I reckon
we’re not civilized enough
to have heat for everyone.
and oh how i knew it
that winters days would come
the cold, the snow, the bitter sting
the bite that suffering freezing brings
the numbness of fingers and joints
the deep snow and freezing rain
the spinning of wheels and fish tails on black ice
disappointments with the way the buses are run
a number of days without the sun
the wind blowing snow drifts on the road
uninsullated shoes and freezing toes
cold metal holding winters personal touch
and the threat of gas being cut
the search for a place to find
welcome and warmth
the primitive skills to find shelter
from the storm
the mission is to live
and find a way to go on
to keep and find the substance warmth
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