Open Link Night #198 The Smell of Green

Tonight is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub. You can submit one poem of your choice as it is no-prompt night. Come join us for some elclectic reading! http://dversepoets.com/2017/06/15/openlinknight-198/

The Smell of Green
As I sat on my back steps
I pondered the smell of green.
I was looking up at the mini moon,
the strawberry moon.
It’s a mini moon because it is farther away
from the earth on the apogee of its orbit.
The moon hasn’t changed sizes though.
and still I ponder the smell of green.
A moist southern evening –
It had rained an hour earlier and
the air was redolent with the smell of green –
freshly mown grass, the herbs in my garden,
The smell of the bushes, vines, and trees –
In my kitchen this night I had made a gremolata –
full of freshly chopped parsley, chives, rosemary, lime zest –
To spread on the chicken breasts I had baked.
Green – romaine lettuce, arugula, a salad of green
dressed with good green California olive oil –
it smelled so green I felt my fingertips tingle.
And then later,
I stuck my nose into the bag of pot I had bought –
The tightly dried buds smelled of pine and Thai basil.
I breathed in the smell of green as I sat on the back steps
and pondered the smell of green,
Smiling at the mini moon.
I had placed mama into hospice –
I was letting go.

dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link Night

It is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub. You can submit any one poem of your choice on subject and form. Come join us!

I hope
night falls gently in mid-May –
the sun fades but it is still bright
yet muted. birds sing their night songs
and the cardinal on the wire
serenades his territory –
Thweeeeee purty purty purty!
honeysuckle drifts on the gentle breeze.
the world is preparing for sleep.
I hope it is a restful night for all
I hope it is a night with sweet dreams
and full stomachs and hearts full of love.
but I hope. I hope.

dVerse Poets Pub – OLN #190

Today is Open Link Night over at the dVerse Poets Pub. Submit one poem of your choice. Come visit and read! http://dversepoets.com/2017/02/23/openlinknight-190/

The Potting Shed
The old potting shed is slowly returning to the earth
settling down on its crumbling stone foundations,
roof slates cracked or missing,
paint fading and flaking.
The fact remains that underneath
Nobody’s Cat burrowed in during the last snow
And died.
Daffodils’ green spears are thick and lush
around the perimeter of the old building.
the flowers stand like mourners
around a grave
as the sun slowly sets
in an explosion of
saffron ginger turmeric curry –

spiced winter day
ends in a flurry of last
waves of goodbye

copyright kanzensakura

copyright kanzensakura

dVerse Poets Pub: OLN

Today for OLN at dVerse Poets Pub….http://dversepoets.com/2016/10/06/open-link-night-181/

The Last Crape Myrtle Bloom
Second week of October –
Last week was cool.
this week it is hot again.
the trees and grass are still green.
The crape myrtle has dropped all its leaves
one bloom holds on –
persistent under a lowering sky.
Matthew is scouring the east coast
ripping away homes and lives
two hours inland it is ghostly still and quiet
hot humid grey – perfect hurricane weather
The last crape myrtle bloom of summer
Holds on persistent under a lowering sky

copyright kanzensakura

copyright kanzensakura

Open Link Night #180

Today Bjorn is hosting at the Pub.  It is OLN which means Open Link Night in which we can post one poem of our choosing on any subject, in any form.  Come join us!  https://dversepoets.wordpress.com/2016/09/22/open-link-


The Calendar is slow

“Autumn knocks softly…” Toni Spencer

Today the calendar says it is the first day of autumn.
The weather is screaming late summer.
All the leaves are still green,
the sky is still the clear blue of summer,
the nights are still warm and moist
and filled with the sounds of insects.

I long for cooler weather,
for the Arabian tapestry of colored leaves
and the rich tangy snap of apples
in my mouth –
The smell of fallen leaves and rain
and the profligate gold of small wild sunflowers
blooming in ditches and fields –
a frosty morning
and deeper blue of autumn sky –
longer nights and shorter days.

The Hunters Moon is a round silver dollar
In the sky.
The Milky Way spirals around it –
Silver pennies – change for the moon’s pocket.

I long for autumn.
Oh! How I long for autumn.

dVerse Poets Pub – Open Link Night

Thursday is Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.  Any poet can submit any one poem of their choice today.  I have submitted a tanka for my choice.  Come join us and discover your new favorite poet!  The pub opens Thursday at 3:00 pm. https://dversepoets.wordpress.com/2016/09/08/openlinknight-179/?iframe=true&theme_preview=true

 

Indian summer vine –
tiny rust flowers clamber
up to the blue sky
eager to see if autumn
has gotten closer to home

copyright kanzensakura

copyright kanzensakura

d’Verse Poetics – Open Link Night #152

Today is Open Link Night at the d’Verse Poetics Pub. This means we submit a poem of our own choice of form, subject, etc. without following a prompt. Come join us today – add a poem of your own or read submissions by extremely talented folks. It has been brutally hot and so, optimist that I am, I am looking forward to cool weather and snow. My poem today reflects my love of snow – anytime, anywhere.   http://dversepoets.com/2015/07/23/open-link-152

January at the Beach
January – alone at the beach.
Gone are the self-conscious preening teens,
The children like raucous birds, their waists
Encircled with neon colored plastic swimming tubes.
Gone the sun worshippers – glistening with oil
And inviting skin cancer and admirers with equal aplomb,
Vendors wheeling carts of ice cream, cold sodas, beer –
The wave splashers and wave riders and wave surfers –
All of them gone.

January – alone at the beach.
Just myself and the dull tawny sand,
The gunmetal grey sky above, sea birds wheeling
In the limbo between grey sea and grey sky.
Into the salt air comes a breath of sweet –
I close my eyes and inhale, knowing.
Sitting there alone waiting…
Now the sea birds become silent as they dip into the ocean
For luncheon and even the waves, loud in the silence,
Seem to subdue and grow quiet.

January – alone at the beach,
Sitting on my blanket huddled in my down jacket –
I listen, I think, I inhale and then…
Like an errant feather from a high flying bird
The first snow flake circles downward and
Lands on the shell beside me.
More fall – large at first and then
Smaller and faster falling.
I stand and walk to the edge of the surf
Letting it brush against my boots.
Against the horizon, the snow is more plainly seen.

In the deep cold, the snow feathers coat the shells
Pebbles, seaweed, sand – mostly melting but making
fuzzy outlines on the forgotten artifacts
castoff from the abandoned ocean.
I hold my face up to the sky and laugh and stick out my
Tongue to taste the snow.
Snow falling and disappearing in the ocean,
Snow falling and slowly melting on my coat.
I haven’t spoken to anyone in several days.
The ocean, empty sand, birds, discarded shells
Are more than enough company.
I hold out my hand and snowflakes fall on my glove.
They stay long enough for me to fall in love
With each and every one before they disappear.
January – alone at the beach.

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