The mountain lion with its dusty
and white cloud colors stares
down at me from a tree.
I twitch into a shudder
of half-madness but just keep
walking at the same pace as if
to say I am not a threat to you,
you king of the forest
in these Idaho valleys and hills
of densely green colors.
No movement behind me,
no roar of hunger.
I move on without another
soul to tell.
Tip-toe past your ultimate demise; postponed for another time, when hunger roars. – mh
The stars are white hot flames
lingering in the ebony sky
as I bleed my life away.
A man as mad as a shroud
of crows crosses my path,
mumbling jibberish to himself.
I turn away as the violet purple fog
hangs in the air like
a chandelier that needs dusting.
Shrug off the shroud and break out your duster. – mh
Love dips and gathers
in a silent shroud
of turtle doves as
the sun glints
on the dust of their wings.
The edges of the sky
peel back and uncover
its blue and purple heart
in a mid summer’s
talcum twilight.
As summer dwindles; a watercolor rendering to remember in winter. Thanks, Dawnell! – mh
Under a lawless moon
the night’s heart thumps
to the beat of blackened
streets as a belly full of crows
in the oak trees thrash
their sleek wings against
the empty void in the night.
A bird-borne bellyache from a scofflaw sky-lit thief – no sleep for you. – mh
Under a conceiving sun
the poppies rise up to meet
its rays in a flurry of colors
as the shallow clouds
drift like a thin fog
in the rose-drenched sky.
Proliferate in the light; poppies, poets, all! – mh
Blood in the moon
turns the sky
a scarlet red as
the night unbuttons
my bones one by one.
Shadows move rapidly
across my peach-colored walls
as my mind spins
like dorsal fins
above the water’s surface.
Bone stripped and buck naked, dive into the deep. Souls swimming in the sea of life. Yes! – mh
The wind flutters above
a warm blue moon
up over the ocean.
The roar of the sea
draws me in like a poultice
sucking the anger
from a boil.
The bulbous thick moon
spills blossoms of light
onto trembling waters.
Once in a wavy moon to rock the boat and quell all anger. – mh
By the marrow of the moon
A baby dropped with light
At her side and the womb
Was hollow in the soft seconds
Of a long night.
The moon collects in a shroud
And shines into the dim night.
I hear the crow cough in the autumn
Sticks and red leaves as the ocean
Pulls in its tides from all ends
Of the earth.
The seagulls’ wings are splayed out
Like the fronds of a fern as the night
Dissolves under the unanswering skies.
In the light of moon or dark of night, question those skies. – mh
Love is my destiny, part one.
Poetry is my honey nectar,
Part two –
Its sweetness slowly
Sliding down my chin.
I shall not live
In fear of hairy,
Cowardly monsters
That move quietly
In the dark still
Of the night planting
Injustice
In my fertile garden.
Monster, don’t trample, but tip toe; let injustice not take root, or take no part in one or two. – mh
