Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Love Begins with a Metaphor

The dining room chairs
used every holiday and when the will
needs going over.

A dusty fish tank yearning
for wet and bubbles and the scaly
hierarchy of a manufactured habitat.

A yellow balloon resting
in a basketball net, heavy enough
to get stuck in the middle,

too light for falling all the way through.
A toddler reading pictures in a book, laughing
with the exaggerated applause of his parents.

A stack of wooden blocks
waiting for one too many and the slow lean
of just before tumbling.

The cat curled up in a blanket
beneath a sunny window
sleeping with one eye open.



Full of Crow Poetry - October 2012

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Oregon

Will you claim me now, after 30-years
of breathing your air, growing tall and then bent
in your ubiquitous rain?

I gave you my prime, two sons, a marriage,
a thousand questions, the only answer,
another son.

My knees are callused with three decades of kowtowing
to your peaks and valleys, your green and your gray,
the ruggedness of your shores.

Will you claim me now as I walk with you still
in gentle contemplation and watching
as you turn men calm

and make women strong? Let me lean-in and listen
to you whisper the blessing of shade and tranquility.
Claim me now

the way you claimed me that first summer so long ago
as I cleared fescue from the overgrown garden with scythe
and splinters and blisters.

I found your rhythm then, do you remember? Between
deep breaths, steady strokes and dripping sweat,
I learned your name.

In time, I stopped and drank clear water as Mary’s Peak
turned black against the dusk of my youth
and you became my mother.



Toe Good Poetry - October 3, 2012

Monday, October 1, 2012

So Gray

I did not know
the lighthouse was white;
it always seemed gray,
like the cold empty sea
to which it stood sentinel.
But, once, the sun danced
through the clouds
and the lighthouse beamed -
adagio of glow upon stone.
Soon, the tide ebbed;
bitter clouds closed in;
things returned to gray.
I am lonely, fearful of storms.




Burningword - October 2012