Friday, August 1, 2014

small poems: july 2014

your photograph
my memory
both fading

the way you used to play 
among the trees
solitary hide-and-seek

the cosmos
plans its day

my urban childhood
canned fruit
even in summer

spider's web
strung high between two tree limbs
everyday art

each morning
my front lawn
a "found art" gallery —
discarded bottles and cans
from night revelers

nearsighted moon
let's stay up all night reading
i'll lend you my glasses

from the other side of the fence
the moon calls
"here i am"

next time I'll be more careful
before entering the shower

just now
a sultry song
on someone else's car radio / /
then the street light changes
from red to green

countless routes
my circlewalk always brings me
back home

my big sun hat
looks sillier on my shadow
than it does on me

after a hard rain
my neighbor's garden spills out
onto the sidewalk

thank you for reminding me
to be surprised

who was I
before I was me?
I look at a painting of
a white swan
and wonder . . . .

weary —
2 blue jays fly across my path —
now I am awake

artist friend
in your open window
a bouquet of colored pencils

abandoned bench
longs for the feel of a 
soft tush —
moss is no substitute

an empty birdcage
floats down the creek —
in the nearby trees: nothing

Goddess of the East
your ruby necklace 
flung across the morning sky
I bow to you

brave little violet
in this moment
you and I

blurred vision
the morning seems
so much grayer

now in our 60s
we vow to wear 
less black

Some really small poems — one-liners, most of them written in the last couple of days:

since my last birthday bigger and noisier dreams 

pale gray faded ink time to toss your letter

heavy rain a bottle cap floats down the street

my hat flies off and takes me with it

so much happiness but no tail to wag

fighting my pillow through a long nightmare

waiting room anxiety fills the empty chair

listening for you so hard it hurts

precious objects I say adieu to you

another morning another crack in the ceiling

daydreaming about a garden I can daydream in

rain waits with me at the bus stop

muddy day happy day

late afternoon curled into a nap beside you

three times looking back no one is there

solitary day alone with the house plants

between thunder claps I count my ragged breaths

in another time zone my mother also washes her hair

hibiscus tea in a sunflower mug mixing it all up

spring cleaning foolishly discarding an old raincoat

steady rain i can't hear myself think

this cracked sidewalk keeping me on my toes

in your purple clogs you brighten this gray day