the terrible cold bone ache
after a fracture opens
the side within us
days in the clinic
trying hard to sleep again
after a hard fall
shivering alone
away in the hospital
waiting for sleeping
Writing for recovery in 3 times 17. – mh clay
a cooler porch day
with the fans filling wind up
while summer gets hot
the forest hides deer
in a bushy woodland space
tucked in our backyard
rachel is pretty
sits meditatively here
while i itch and watch
As summer passes, we recall the heat and wildlife we had to scratch. – mh clay
dull the dark morning
dreadful numb shiver away
from the hopelessness
It’s a choice. – mh clay
hear the water lap
the shores of the melted lake
…with only kisses
You’ll need a towel after that kiss and cuddle. – mh clay
pain and anxiety
over the telephone line
step by step resolved
Everyone is looking for a Lynn to lighten the load. – mh clay
THE FROST OF DAWN
silently cold comes
against the blues of friday
…love, lonely sinking
***
TREES
nature breathes, sweats rain
I am in awe by window
views of my garden
Outer spaces spur inner graces. – mh clay
THE SALE
this huge house I love
…this relic of a small past
…away and gone now
***
LUCKY GUY
I was luckiest
when things fell apart. The world
baked like dough to bread
***
GNATS
gnats swarm in the sun
the day is itchy rotten
the apple stinks too much
Just as life comes in short bursts; our luck can turn on the sale of a gnat. – mh clay
a light diffuses black
..it lathers the sky that way
…clouds spread like thunder
A light lather is a close shave. – mh clay
Places where the dead are plugged
…electric to all passion’s core
wandering the peasant groves
…confused by an uncertain brain
and terrorizing man and beast
and women also
like a boar
searching warmth
in fear of fire.
Destruction in desire’s feast
the way the dead can feel desire!!
Like this, we grope our grove, in search of life’s bright bolt. – mh clay
An achy nervousness
among pandemic days
while summer turns toward Fall
and the politics of madness
in the election of it all
and my own old age decays
dully for its sadness
like some disease which slays
with a sleep that fills our eyes
with an image on TV
of dreamy dreamy hot fires
in the skies.
Flat screen, flat deal! We are what we watch. – mh clay
