words trickle like melting ice
diluting pigment
with the brush too full
words trickle like melting ice diluting pigment
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"garden"
toy soldier tulips colors lined up like the candy counter mints here bubblegum there surrounded by a tarmac of black mulch yew and privet and tamed forsythia clipped to cinder block precision turrets and defensive walls lawns like industrial carpeting rocks painted white to look like quartz resin cast stones that say "garden" plastic eyes and wizardly noses nailed to tree trunks whiskey barrels tipped and buried miming an accidental spill of flowers elegantly rusted watering cans artfully poised wabi sabi of the hoi polloi Goshawk
goshawk you devil I passed this place not an hour ago and this flat of grey feathers was not there I am certain. the wind has not yet disturbed its perfect ellipse a fall of clean and perfect primaries curled contours a speck of bird blood and this just outside my window and myself oblivious. I saw it happen once a mourning dove washing-up in a white pine the goshawk gliding silently hooked a twig and lifted wings so landing would not trouble the branch then stepping hunched long steps along the branch ridiculously close to the oblivious dove a tiny puff and no skirmish. the goshawk flapped noisily from needles' cover hovered beside the pine for a moment struggling flipping grey cloud attached floated to the ground did something final and muffled the dove stilled. the goshawk flapped easily away over the cornfield trailing feathers. Lilith
I liked the dragonfly just fine along with any other arthropod no favoritism quite partial to insects, I am (inexplicably unshared with acquaintances). but since I met Lilith (she darts past almost daily now) whose shredded scrap of a life seems bearable only to her in delusional daydreams I dread the return of dragonflies. the dragonflies are China resin glazed plastic mesh tightened wire wrapped gleaming fur gilded thread hanging, pressed to windowsills impaled against corkboard beside doctor's orders and pizza coupons. wiggly eyes rhinestone wings smiling anthropomorphic mouths some framed in gold foil cheap prints with artful splats of paint and words of validation in generated calligraphy font dream! inspire! eternity! Lilith with hard eyes and strident gravel voice and frightening smile tells us, her girls you know me I love dragonflies I have them in my car even. Us girls furtively move and cover and rearrange the dragonflies so's not to disturb her tenuous lunacy. Abenaki Legend: Maple Syrup
the Maple tree in ancient days made sap so thick and sweet all you had to do was break a branch, and you could eat the People of one village saw how easy it might be to lie beneath a branch and drink the sap straight from the tree they lay in sweet forgetfulness for days, and then for weeks the fields grew weeds, the fires grew cold and still they filled their cheeks Gluskabe saw that it was time to wake them from their dream from bark of Birch he made a pail and filled it from the stream and all the water he poured in for each Moon of the year the Maple's sap grew thin and pale the People woke in fear "What's happened to the Maple tree that has sustained us so?" "Such gifts can not be given free no more will syrup flow the Maple is a gift to you but now in one Moon turning you must work hard to catch the flow coax honey from the burning" he showed the People how to make the pails and piles of wood and gather rocks to boil the sap and make the syrup good now each year in the Sap Moon's turn and heedless of the weather so grateful for Creator's gift the People come together Sparrow
blue and grey plastic pallets stacked outside the lottery gas station cheap cigarette store sunlight streaks concrete barriers dropped like misplaced toys flat butts and shiny wrappers loiter in the crevices crinkled hondas unload children trailed by texting mamas in checkered trousers the pump burrs softly stark housing units peer over the retaining wall windows hung with postal paper and scarves inviting ticking lines of people trucks traffic lights that blink endlessly while just beyond are hills that grip a river it's winding woven in brick mills and bedrock a distant crow specks the sun as a sparrow flits to the pavement shivers and zips into a hole in sun scorched blue plastic disappears into black shadow I watch. another. another. a queue forms on the chainlink. the sparrow reappears pokes its slate grey head from a handhold drops to the pavement the gas nozzle bucks in my hand I won't go look at what's inside the blue plastic pallet. Bedtime Prayer
green and gold green and gold keep me laughing when I'm old black and red black and red spare me undesired dread purple night purple night banish my imagined slights silver grey silver grey wake with grace the coming day Little Bluestem
red boots stamp flat lone patches of crusty snow hastening spring impatient and gleeful small hands snap stems of dry fat goldenrod pull bundles of little bluestem wrap the ragged bits in brambles a birthday bouquet to herself Ice Clouds
mare's tails five miles up sweep the cloud bright vernal sky ice wind lower now fine black crows slip past the sun. April Fool
The Muse is laughing. Her soft hands cover my ears and leave them ringing. |