Short Scrim Poems

With the glut of sounds fixed within the book of expressions
I cause the dearth in mine carve ‘pon slip for the eager to ponder
A poet compelled yet tactful with scribe as a view thru scrim...

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hanging on the tree                                                                                                         like red ripe apples snow scrim                                                                                         postcards view winter...

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Thrice

Hot spring
Early summer
Chilly low season

How could i (not bella)
Forget such bloom (twice in june)

Front i
Certainly
The neighborz
Through the scrim
Front mine eyne (count mine torso'z pounding)
moundz
'top uv
moundz

The glow 'bout mine face (bella'z)
Them roses
those thornz...

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This sudden revelation
Image
That stark    forgotten white

As I stand    gazing
Through an olive green scrim
Beyond the damp and dusted mist
This Seurat shower of pointillistic heads
A sudden crowd
A noisy crowd     come to life
With music of the spheres
The dance along each bough
Fancy to hear
Distant
Each small voice
In riotous cheer
Spring people...

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The scent of a boiled, fruit steamed pudding being made
evoked memories of my grandmother;
when I was a child.
home-making hers , in a scrim-cloth
on the open-range...
brought home to me
how much I loved her then
and miss her now.
49 years , touched me like yesterday
and I cried for her loss
all over again.


Elizabeth alexander                   24/12/2015
 UNSUPPORTED CODE...

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within another world
a silhouette times
contemplation,
the trees listen
their scrim, 
rustle
playing a patchwork 
of light over her face


the trees knew 
if they
stayed still enough,
quiet long enough,
a secret wrapped
around her mind,


would unravel


their wait 
will be eternal
as she sleeps 
the seasons turn,


and the roots 
of the trees
wind 


to bind her...

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