ws
of the two
big baskets
of coral
crowding
their coffee
table’s top
so she high-tided
the treasures from
one of them along
their mantel’s shore
then sailed away in
that empty basket
to Paris
to lose
herself
by night
in The
Louvre
and by day
in the arms
of a croissant
named Mo.
Including the title, that’s 55 words!
xooxoxoxooxoxoxo
in the quiet cafe
when our poems
flew up over the
ceiling fans into
the wine bottles
an angel poured
our smiles from?
Remember how
our poems’ bones
then floated on
the steam of our
lattes to the hill
where mice were
racing motorcycles
down snow sleds
to entertain two
parakeets who
couldn’t stop
laughing?
That would be YOUR 55 fictional words, G-Man!
xoxoxo to all.
(Parakeet winter afternoon hanging spot to keep me company.)
One time I
Google Earthed you
all the way down
to a single pixel
of a butterfly’s foot
on an oak leaf
in the northeast
corner of your
old back yard.
and in that
little square
i saw you
flipping
burgers on
your grill.
you were
drinking up
the music
of summer
and wearing
the half-toga
you usually
reserve for very
special occasions
like the crowning
of Miss America,
carrot harvesting
and bottling your
dandelion wine.
But mostly I
don’t Google Earth
you or anybody
at all. I’m too
busy either out
slapping my palms
onto the big drum
of Planet Earth
or inside stitching
birdsong, cats and
a gymnast’s dreams
into stardust tea.
~~ end of poem
Happy Poetry Tuesday, even though dVerse is on break until 2014.
Happy EVERYTHING, actually!! 🙂
And Merry Christmas, in case I’m not posting again until after the 25th.
You all rock so much, you beautiful, wonderful awesome humans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
All photos above from Saturday, Dec. 14th, 2013.
xoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoox
after he silently
perused my finest
wares for something
worthy of his wife for
their anniversary
— the 1960s
Bavarian “harvest
party” ensemble,
the 1950s
Sascha Brastoff
art pottery coffee
confection,
the
1940s
Hopper
diner
bowls,
and the antique
robin’s egg blue
butterfly-handled
tall rare demitasse
lined with gold,
all he could
say was…
“Nice jugs!”
And that was 55 words, right?? 🙂
xoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxox
My computer
knows when I’m
thinking of you.
I’ll be describing
something shiny
I’m selling on eBay
like china
or magic
shoes
when I’ll hear
your laugh here
and my
computer
will start
tossing its
wild mane,
rattling its
brass medallions,
and pawing at the
ground to spring
free onto some
forested trail.
other times
my computer
crackles like
a campfire,
shooting emails to
you all on its own
then
stills
itself
like a
lake after
a storm,
ears perked
and listening
for the silence
of your heart.
your heart
as pure and
as beautiful
as an
empty
church
or a
cloud
ship
sailing
on the
wind.
~~ end of poem for DVerse poets Open Link Tuesday.
xooxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxo
St. John’s Episcopal Detroit photo credit.
