This thawing day
How long till You all come back again?
the defrosting trees toss glass upon the concrete cracks,
as the campus grounds liberate themselves, from their snowy mounds
from which I was once hiding away, before this thawing day,
from the frozen frost below, hostage by the augmented snow
in my fully-furnaced room above, but today is not the spring I love,
and the sun and his nemesis, snow, still waltz window to window
as I glide past the glaring glass, I pause, to reflect, to ask,
“Mother!1, Father!2 When will your children wake up?”
1Mother Earth
2Father God
Another helping of rain
Can’t help hoping for another helping of rain
narrated by thunder and barn’s bang
as hues transform twilight and night slowly covering
a saturated sun setting behind dark clouds hovering,
swinging the spectrum on a pendulum that humidies hang
tragically, intimately close to my heart’s pain.
What I deserve
Do I deserve a gift, a party
for I wasn’t pushing on that day
two decades past.
Who am I to be given to?
Caring too much to dust my feet
as I slowly return to the holy city,
away from unknowns, temptations.
Just bought a hair claw to charm me when stressed?
Everyone’s unreliable, even me, (cynically, I add)
meaningless under the sun, life?
Utilitarian–not quite me,
My grace? No, it was given me free.
Daybreak
I crave photographing you,
daybreak–the mists motionlessly woos
and the grass bows to sun baptized in dew:
Rising of a new day–every glance at you.
Ready to be called?
I am a barnyard goose,
up and down a car crammed roads, running
as the flock flies overhead on a mission.
Honking, honking, and honking,
where do I go?
a bug in headlights, banging my head on synthetic plastic for
“It’s the sun!”
Impatient as a client on the curb awaiting their sedan’s solution.
Do I need to be ready for my call to be called?
Dark side of the moon
Droplets form frozen flurries.
Life giving water threatens life,
Crystallizing my insides
Flowing toward death.
Free from the sun is no freedom.
No reckoning of my own could
Set me back on course where I should
Be toward not my homeland of green and blue,
But my home of gold and white.