IMAGINATION

featured in the poetry forum September 26, 2022  :: 0 comments

The local honey laces my smoothie,
creates a thought:
I wonder which flowers I am tasting?

So much happens outside my window,
time and space of the occurrences a mystery –
imagination fills in the spaces.

Back in the yard, bees now buzz
Autumn Joys, for the poplar’s
tulips already left their sky garden –
they pepper the perennial beds.

That squirrel with the white back patch
doesn’t scavenge under the feeder anymore;
A tasty morsel for the red tail, perhaps?

I prefer to think it on vacation.

The smell of ham bone soup
turns me away from the window.

The vegetables are from the sun garden.
Did the rabbits watch me harvest them?

Much happens inside these windows, too.

I step to the busy chef to curl my arms
around him, like newly sliced parmesan,
hearing a tasting slurp as I do.

Rain might get the best glimpse
as they drip over the window glass –
Do they feel the vibrations and wonder,
‘Is that the piano or laughter?’

Or does the imagination fill in the spaces?

editors note:

The imagination of rain? Imagine that. – mh clay

RESTORED PORTMANTEAUS

August 27, 2022  :: 0 comments

Sara It was a fantabulous ski trip, until a snorm caused fragitation for travelers, including her.  Put up in a motel, she arrived with EarPods on, podcast pulsing, ginormous swollen portmanteau challenging her every move. That snarky pre-gate agent with the one-inch ridiculashes had doubted that the luggage latch would hold, she thought.  Hah! Ready to chillax, she plopped the suitcase down and …

SIXTEEN SQUARES

featured in the poetry forum July 16, 2022  :: 0 comments

Three jays in the lower sash,
One in ten, two in nine,
Cry like hawks, readily push fear,
But not through the glass;

Tail of squirrel in eight, torso in four,
Missing its head as squirrels go,
Until the head comes around
When the oak permits two-way traffic –

Downward four-to-eight-to-twelve-to-sixteen,
Like a losing team, before its teammates release
The tree blossoms for stealing, seconds splitting
Into minutes, until the Mourning Dove rests on seven,

At Dogwood Square, where a house finch slides
From second to third and beak-first brothers
Parachute down, below grilles thirteen through sixteen,
Sparrow in five, four, three, two, one, gone.

editors note:

What do you see through your windowpanes (how many)? – mh clay

SACRED SEQUENCE

featured in the poetry forum April 15, 2022  :: 0 comments

Prayerful fence-post meetings
Of the little sinless trespassers

Strawberries spied and thieved
Whilst the Waiters wait

Perfect pepper plants
Slip-tied like martyrs to poles

While celestial vines
Explode inside cages

Tiny bright beloved yellow
Blooms becoming

Untainted green orbs
Filling to glow red-like until

Tomato trios cling aerially
Like mobiles over babies

Nearby butternut blooms burst
Before

The surprise takes
When the gardener arrives

Dappled yellow and green
Novitiates will begin

A pious pose
In veneration of the sun

Until beveled pinstripes hug
Hippy buttery frames

On the gardener also
Bending to collect earth’s offertory

The beans make the preordained
Climb righteously up the metal trellis

Where catbirds rest and revere
The sacred sequence

editors note:

Sinless trespassers and all; how does YOUR garden grow? (We welcome Marie to our crazy congress of Contributing Poets with this submission. Read more of her madness on her new page – check it out.) – mh clay

Read the Signs

February 19, 2022  :: 1 comment

Story of my life! I’m in my head instead of wherever my feet are planted and it’s all about me. That’s what happened last week and I’m still afraid to go back to the gym. Should I find another? Pretend nothing happened? Ask that authorities get involved? Why can’t I decide? Here’s what I did or didn’t do. It was …

MOON SPLASH

featured in the poetry forum January 11, 2022  :: 0 comments

She swam across my window
Against the cloud current of
fast-moving, wispy white dolphins.

The full brightness awakened me,
I couldn’t fall back to sleep.

It’s as if she treaded there with purpose.

A climb to the highest diving board
To be seen before sinking below earth,
A cavernous snorkel unknown to me.

A friend is obsessed with her.

Even when she dips skinny in the sky,
Her various shapes hold meaning.

My eyelids flutter kicked eventually
Until I plunged into deep sleep,
A drowning soak away from her.

editors note:

We sleep or swim in phases, light shining on our faces. – mh clay

In the Wilderness

November 23, 2021  :: 1 comment

I am the loudest animal on the planet, and the funniest looking, Annelise thought, as she trudged through the snow wearing footgear resembling tennis rackets. Over a long white puffy coat, she carried an ugly black- camera necklace. “How do I look, Mom?” she said out loud, looking to the sky. You look noisy, she heard in response, but she …

DREAM OF ME

featured in the poetry forum October 12, 2021  :: 0 comments

I’m barely younger,
Just as blemished,
Little more to prove.
I could be taken,
As just as you,
So won’t you dream of me?
In the wicker chair,
On a parking lot,
Inside a mountain top –
Find yourself,
In the dream of me.
Yell at me,
Unleash our dog,
Caress my hair,
In the dream of me.
Be scared,
Laugh out loud,
Talk nonsense back,
In the dream of me.
Whatever happens
In these dreams,
Matters not to me.
What matters true
To this old gal,
Is that when I’m
Next to you,
Before early light,
That you say, You
Had a dream of me.

editors note:

A scheme to me dream. Did you? – mh clay