Out of the Woods
I promised myself
I'd get a tattoo
if I survive this winter -
a little outline of a dress
on my right shoulder.
She said, you should
probably be in-patient
and I smiled
the little grim outline
of anger and repugnance.
Winter is like that
one day you're fine
just shopping for lettuce
and toiletries, and
the next day you're in bed
contemplating the best way
to fade quietly into January.
I'm looking forward to spring,
the tattoo artist will ask me
they always do -
the inspiration for my tattoo.
I'll say I survived
that the winter didn't kill me
that I'm just fine, thank you,
the calamity of slowing suffocating
behind me like a bad dream
the kind that leaves you gasping.
I can only hope the tattoo artist
won't be horrified, but
he's probably seen worse
and that makes me even happier
to be out of the woods.
Spring is Coming, be not afraid
Its not a spiderweb- well, maybe it is, but more likely
its the lifeline of a small green worm-
and delicate one, your new pet
for the next ten days
Its not poisonous- well, not if you don't eat it
its just fuzzy, with bright red eyes,
and an inescapable thirst
for pool water
Its the rain- well, the rain isn't brown and dry
its dropping fuzzy ringlets on your car
and everywhere else
for the aesthetic
Spring is coming, be not afraid
for the sweat in the air is a drink in the shade
the tears in the sky are a sheild to the sun's blade
this is Florida- be not afraid
Onion Seeds
Planting Spanish onion seeds
On the floor in my garage
In black plastic trays
While you read aloud the story of an Alaskan teacher
Deliberately
Imagining our babies in a year or two
Their hair will be yellow curls
Their eyes will be either oceans or ponds
Imagine the potluck dinners
The baseball games at 6 p.m.
Mom and Dad will be in love
And will never hurt anyone again
Not under heaven’s golden sun
Not this spring
Icarus Equinox
Flowering from the graves of the fallen,
acid rain nutrifies the soul.
Stretching skyward
the sun becomes the threshold,
but beware forsaken redeemer
for new growth adds height,
eagerness is death,
and pride is the zombie poison.
Their arms may push you higher
where they themselves are too afraid to go.
and beware the blade
of the brainwashed masses.
or the tyrannical trimmers
of the gassed-up blind.
for if you want to make it until fall,
keep your head low
and wait for the clock to strike nine.
© 2024 Chris Sadhill
Fresh Hope
I can always sense the changing...
the scent on the air
the whispers in the trees
the weight of the clouds
they all tip me off to the coming rebirth
I can always pinpoint the hour
when the Earth has refocused it's gaze
and leaned back toward the warmth of the sun...
I can feel the mood shift
in the earth under my feet
First Floral Show of the Year
Under the melting snow,
Crocus is starting to grow.
It's head will soon show,
as it's body rises from below.
The Ides of March is nearly here.
The snow should soon disappear,
setting the stage for the first
floral show of the year.
Crocus will be in good company,
sharing the stage with Dwarf Iris,
Glory of the Snow, Grape Hyacinth,
Lily of the Valley and Daffodil,
a symphony of colour and good will.
The script was written long ago.
The actors know their roles by heart.
The only uncertainty is March,
The craziest month of the year!
Why do I hold March so dear?
Two crazies, a long time ago,
tied the knot under the biggest
Snow storm of the year!
Every March we celebrate
our wedding anniversary,
as soon as the snow clears,
with the first floral show of the year!
Spring...
It coils
like a chill
roly-poly or
unabashed centipede
getting going...
And I, i like
fixing things,
for the human race
our close breath
rattled di,
the cross hairs,
and safety shells
the long run
of all historic
to-do's
undone
it's quite a list
in wind writ,
and as a fixer upper
myself...
I'm working on it
03.28.2024
Spring is coming... challenge @Plexiglassfruit