Secrets

For Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.

Secrets
“And stare through the wet branches of an oak
In winter, & realize I am looking at the stars
Again.” Winter Stars by Larry Levis

the stars in winter hold secrets
close to their hearts.
their silence tells of sleeping bees
and bare trees and falling flakes of snow.
they hold these secrets close to their hearts –
telling no one except the night sky.
they wait for pink spring
and the waking of the bees.

The Reality of Snow

For Kerry’s Art Flash/55: A graphite sketch called “Autumn Breath” by Jason Limberg, Michigan USA.  A 55 for the prompt. For Sunday’s Poetry Pantry.

The Reality of Snow
“I wonder if the snow loves the trees and fields, that it kisses them so gently?” – Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland & Through the Looking-Glass

We are the last of our line.
I fear my brother the next full moon –
the snow will be falling –
like stars in the woods
filling the darkness.
nibbled bits of branches in our stomachs
as we slowly starve.
we lie back-to back for warmth –
snow, unceasing snow.
until it covers us
and we sleep

“Autumn Breath”
Jason Limberg
Used With Permission

Cedars on the Hill

For Sherry’s prompt at Real Toads, the art of Emily Carr, an artist from British Columbia, Canada.  A very interesting artist.

Cedars on the Hill
Cedars are terribly sensitive to change of time and light – sometimes they are bluish cold-green, then they turn yellow warm-green – sometimes their boughs flop heavy and sometimes float, then they are fairy as ferns and then they droop, heavy as heartaches. – Emily Carr

I watch the cedars on the hill across the way
like I watch the changing of the seasons.
the deep blue green,
the paler green,
the red of the dying branches.
I walk among them
and brush my hands against them
taking their scent unto myself.
small creatures live beneath them
and birds build their nests in them.
I love them most when it snows
and creatures hunker for warmth
in them and beneath them.
beneath the heavy sky
they stand in groups
and are their own community.

Cedar – Emily Carr 1942

 

 

 

 

Snowing in my mind

A haibun of 107 words in the manner of Basho for Izy’s pillow fort prompt on Day 11 of NAPOWRIMO

Snowing in my mind
I don’t have a bed or pillow fort. But I do have a set of cool satin sheets I love to roll on after my husband has gone to work. I love the cool feeling against my skin; especially during the hot spring and summer when I get so hot, even in the air conditioning. I lay in the silence of the morning and look at the grey light coming in between the blinds. I pretend it is snowing. I love snow. I love the coolness of the satin sheets.
hot summer mornings –
it is cool in thoughts
of snow rather than sun

 

Haibun: Winter Ocean

For De’s prompt at Quadrille Monday. The prompted word is kiss.  A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words and uses a prompted word.

Haibun: Winter Ocean
Walking along the shore, snow begins. The sky is grey overhead and golden sand becomes white. Broken shells roll in the surf. I hold my face up to the sky to be kissed.
lazy snowflakes kiss
the shore – ocean kisses back –
winter romance blooms

 

 

 

Hectic Snow

For Sunday Muse #38

Hectic Snow
The wrong time –
The wrong tune –
Stars swirl around like hectic snow.
Their songs lure you
And you float up and follow.
The music follows you
Until they freeze and fall
Like hectic snow.

Sunday Muse #38

 

 

Waiting for Snow

For Real Toads Weekend Challenge

Waiting for Snow
“There is no Final Resting Place of the Mind.” – Anthony Bourdain

the cold air feels still –
total silence – the air feels hollow –
an empty ring – like the single bonnnngggg
from a distant temple bell –
a sweet smell in the air –
the snow is holding off
waiting for 3:00 p.m.
the timeline announced by the
blatheringyammeringnattering
weather folk for the snow to begin.
The feral cats are hunkered down,
Hidden.
They know. The birds know. The squirrels know.
We humans don’t know shit.
European model. U.S. model.
Snow will begin when snow begins.
The first flake slowly circles downward.
Let the games begin.

Haibun: January

For Kim’s prompt for Haibun Monday. Although she asks for a limit of three tight paragraphs, I have revered to the original form created by Basho – one brief and to the point paragraph along with a seasonal haiku to close instead of the long haibun with much despcription.

January
The Christmas tree is put away for another year. Darkness covers the earth in early afternoon. Cold settles about the house like a snowy shawl. It seems dull without the lit Christmas tree. We sip slow simmered bean soup for dinner.
feral cats gather –
they mass together for warmth –
feeding them is joy

snowy yard

The Atlantic in January

For Sanaa’s prompt on Real Toads – Get listed.  I have chosen these words for my poem: January. snow, wind, clouds, poems.  the optional words of my choice are mysterious, Atlantic, and lover.

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The Atlantic in January
“There’s something wonderful about drinking in the afternoon. A not-too-cold pint, absolutely alone at the bar — even in this fake-ass Irish pub.” Anthony Bourdain

The winds blew the clouds about in the
January sky – like poems written on tissue paper.
Bits of sea foam snagged on the sand
and then were swept back into the ocean.
Snow fell slow and steady.
The grey Atlantic heaved to the shore and back again –
breathing like a sleeping lover –
chest up and chest down,
chest up and chest down.
The Atlantic in January is a mysterious thing.
Fifty shades of grey –
In the sky,
The sand,
The water,
The partial whelk shell holding firm in the sand
as the water washed over it.
The Atlantic in January is a mysterious thing.
It is the kiss of lovers,
The words written by a poet in her mind,
A glass of beer drunk in an empty bar
on a Tuesday afternoon.
I walk along its edge and wonder
at its quiet beauty –
the things hidden in its depths.
The Atlantic in January is a mysterious thing.

fuyu no yoake

Happy New Year frens….hope, joy, grace, and love to you all

For Real Toads Tuesday Platform. Keeping it short!

 

fuyu-no-yoake (cold winter dawn)
cold winter dawn –
from across the field floats the
crow of a rooster

Haibun: Cedars against snow

For Real Toads Tuesday platform.  This haibun only has 39 words, more than enough.I feed a family of ten feral cats on a daily basis. Slowly I am getting them all fixed with rabies shots.

Haibun: Cedars against snow
Against the snow on the hillside, the cedars show up almost black. The wind whistles over the snow; the occasional bark of crows wafts over the meadow.
a crow caws
across the meadow – feral cats
line up for food

feral cats

Hatsuyuki: Full Moon Snow Dance

For my prompt over at Real Toads:  Stepping into the void.  In which we learn about the enso, the circle, drawing the circle.  The void of the inner circle, empty and yet full.  The different aspects of ma – the dimensions of the void.  Zen Buddhists often draw the enso as a daily exercise to center themselves.  It should take only a breath or two to draw the circle.  Come visit.  Learn about the enso, learn about you.   Here is the link to Toads: http://withrealtoads.blogspot.com/2018/09/step-into-void.html

*Hatsuyuki:  Full Moon Snow Dance
Snow swirling in the wind
whispering in my ear –
“Dance with me to my silent music
Let me stir your blood –
our private dance,
only the moon will see –“
All white covers the ground
The trees, the roads, the houses.
Flat white glowing in the full moon,
flattening out the shadows,
one dimensional landscape.
I step out onto the snow,
breathe in deeply the sweet freezing air.
The moon glows, making the snow cover shimmer.
I twirl in the snow and laugh.
Arms held wide
I begin our white hot rhumba.
The moon, the snow and me.
I whisper to the snow and the moon.
This is our secret dance.

*Hatsuyuki is Japanese for first snow.  An even viewed with almost holy overtones