Skitter Poems | Examples

Waters Swirl

  
    the staircase stops mid-air
      cobwebs choke in dust
    down, down critters skitter 
      down invisible rails

       waters swirl
    up springs Hope
       without a cue card 
     violins carry it off

Simple Weight

Simple Weight

I dropped my killick deep into the bay,
not made of iron, but of gathered stone,
and a dead branch lashed tight to keep it whole,
to hold me while the tide turned on its way.
It settled in the mud, a simple weight,
where tiny crabs might skitter and explore,
a humble thing to keep me from the shore,
a promise that I would not drift away.
I watched the water's skin grow hard and gray,
and held the breath I didn't know I'd held.

The line went slack at last, a sudden give.
The tide had shifted and the stone broke free,
and somewhere on the bottom, it was lost.
My simple anchor, set for me to live,
had found a place to rest, a final cost.
And I began to move, a slow release,
as currents pushed me out toward open sea.
I left the killick to its endless peace,
and drifted, finally, with no need to live
within the limits I had set for me.

Grandma - Mar 13

Memories lost within a frozen mist
And dangling in the static atmosphere
Of muddled recollection of things dear 
Haunt the backwoods of the years she has missed. 

Through foggy glances, blurred thoughts that persist
In the dim haze, shapes of the past, appear;
These flittering figures, some far, some near,
Skitter through her mind, meek and shadow-kissed. 

But soon they drift to a fathomless past,
A time she can no longer touch, just hear.
Rocking mechanically, her face austere,
She searches, brow stuck in a furrowed twist. 

As I watch her eyes wander vacant space,
I wonder, “Will she still recall my face?”

Wild Is The Night

Only on full moon does my essence 
find release,
When the blaze of moments infects
 my hunger for raw wantonness...          
Gulls skitter on coastlines
 and reel overhead
Their  croons heralding night's ebullience,
Until my limbs twirl unceasingly
For an endless tempo
 of wild  bohemian dance.
Living in the Now,
  my body- soul races free

Like chants of untamed prayer
welcoming eve's thrill almost sublime.

everywhere

buttery morning
light
licks

there are daintily cupped blooms
small white weeds
that no one can name

the sun has spread its table

green rippled gardens
garner
flecks of gold

an old groundhog
a basket of hedgerow twigs
baby footed clouds
blue dingle
between eggshell
vales

run along

all those that can leap a fence
or skitter under it
go
for the light is everywhere
new arriving

let the rooted behold
even if this domain
stops its clement rolling

even so

When Autumn Leaves Came Sifting Down

late-summer sky, vast cloudless vault
hued blue as eyes first meeting mine;
soon autumn tinged fresh campus air
as flirting-glance to fondness grew
and verdant leaves donned ochre hues
then blushed rust tones when we would gaze
deep into eyes, hearts warm as spring
in dappled shade beneath spread limbs
of gold and umber, pumpkin-rind,
soft pastel sketches for the eye
while we held hands and strolled to class,
kaleidoscope of trickling leaves
adrift and wafting, sifting down
to skitter softly in north's breeze
while we embraced for our first kiss
in gloaming colored like the leaves

Itch

Itch

Does A Squirrel
Know It's A Squirrel?

***

First of All: 
Why Would That
Be My Name?

I Like It,
But It's 
Ridiculous,
Random.

Characterized
By Bias That's
Required For
Words to Have
Any
Meaning
At
All.

***

Does Your Experience Convey
Enough 
To Hear What I Say?

***

Their Greatest Fault
Is Nobody's Fault.

***

Now...
Skitter Away.

-Gray Squirrel

09-17-2024

Fairies

Beating their wings hard against the wind 
stars spring out soft, then slowly rescind 
Unwinding their colors round fur line trees  
the world as we know it falls at their knees;
Supernatural scents permeating the air 
diffusing their magic with charm and with flare 
Utopian eyes that wander then mirror  
cool crystal waters that cloak and transmit her 
Down in the orchard a butterfly sprite 
with emerald wings to gage through the night 
They dance and they flutter on wings of slow butter 
hovering gentle to hither and skitter 
inside a dominion of archmage enchanters.

A carpet of flowers surrounded by magic and dew,  
slow sip aromas of chamomile essence & feverfew.

Fields of Glass

There 
Is a rhythm
I could never get

Until then.
Onstage,
Watching the conductor, my page.
I was set on getting it
And I did-
And the conductor smiles
A smile so big it reaches to hell
And back.
Well,
I smile back
A smile so big
It reaches to the ends of the Earth.

And I play on
And I laugh 
A laugh so sweet
That it makes flowers grow
Un-der-neath my seat.
And I laugh
A laugh so bitter
It waxes and wanes
And makes rats skitter.

And I crescendo my last and final thought.
Of whether to shift or whether to not.
And as the piece takes its final bow
I think about home
And the fields I plow
Fields of glass
And fields of stone.
Fields of brass
And fields alone.

But no,
Not here.
Friendship,
Family,
Call it what you will. 
But even when they leave,
We are together, still.
Together in art,
Together in part,
Together we make
Something smart.

Orchestra
Strings
Say what you may,
Even when they graduate,
We'll find a way.

Darkness

Inside my box
The night is very dark.
A chill wind blows through my mind
And scatters thoughts
Like dry leaves before a storm –
Twisting, whirling out of reach.
They pile up in corners in
Disordered heaps.
I grasp in panic, but they
Skitter away just out of reach,
Taunting me. Please!
Bring back my ordered life!
I’m lost in moonless black –
No light ahead – no warmth –
All order gone! I shiver.
I draw in upon myself
And see me growing smaller
And smaller - until, at last,
I simply disappear.

Chicago

Not an occasion for the
Queasy or fainthearted
But the start of a journey
Into waters uncharted
Not an element of skill
Just a game of luck and chance
To throw  five dice on the table
Watch them skitter and dance
And each display their value
Only the number one counted
And as the game progressed
My fear and dread mounted
Seventh one ordered
Fourteenth one paid
Twenty first one drank
That’s how the game was played
No limits to the concoctions
Just order  what you think
And pray down in your heart
You weren’t the one to drink.
Just a game of luck and chance
Not the slightest bit of skill
Many a poor loser has retired
Confused, bemused and ill.
Called Chicago in the village
In the mess called Snake Eye
Many  player  has longed 
Just to crawl away and die.

Squirrels In the Sycamore

Last leaves have fallen from the sycamore tree
Leaving her limbs unclad, so naked and bare
While they wait for their new coats of cottony
White snow, and the squirrels, here and there,

Skitter about searching for the nuts they stored
All summer long for wintry days they anticipated
Most of them have found carefully stashed hordes
Since the leaves are raked and falling has abated.

Instinctively, they hurry to prepare for the winds
Securing their leaf nests in the hollows of limbs
They even seem to cooperate as squirrel friends
As the warmth of a November sun steadily dims. 

A sense of barrenness and busyness on the lawn
As the sycamore filters the dimming light through
Up early, I can see the squirrels working at dawn,
Mother Nature has taught them exactly what to do. 

Written November 6, 2022

Catch Me If You Can

swirling leaves skitter
chasing squirrels on the lawn ~
fall Olympiad

Written October 26, 2022

Autumn Leaves

autumn breezes sigh
dying leaves drift downward still …
skitter across lawn 

Written September 21, 2022

The Horsefly's Sonnet

Once I saw a purplish oblong tangerine,
Standing near the hydrant on Sixty-first
I wondered what it could possibly mean, 
Then, I was overcome with dreadful thirst
When I watched it skitter quickly away
I was transfixed by its stark underbelly,
Joining a cantaloupe on a teeter to play
While a pigeon danced in a jar of jelly,
The sound of a toad lapping up its milk
Told me reality had not departed from me
Sounds of tongue-in-groove are tantalizing 
Especially when crawling over a cup of tea
Are my fellow horseflies merely fantasizing
Or are they, like me, oddities analyzing? 

Written August 18, 2022

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