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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~waking up wednesday

 

 

 

 

january is quiet

& stars move in slow motion

as if they’re falling asleep above

a half-moon shadow

carved on my bed

 

 

there’s dust on the nightstand

 

 

thick, like overused adjectives

searching for nouns to describe this

emptiness, the way it lies

in the shape of a spiral notebook

that writes the history of us

 

 

how thirty-two seasons together

equals the distance between two pillows

 

 

I swallow another mouthful of darkness

& drown myself in sounds of this night

my writer’s ghosts will visit soon

 

 

& these thin walls are whispering

the forecast calls for snow

 

 

 

 

 

 

lah  1.19.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~waking up wednesday
 
 
 
 
january is quiet
& stars move in slow motion
as if they’re falling asleep above
a half-moon shadow
carved on my bed
 
 
there’s dust on the nightstand
 
 
thick, like overused adjectives
searching for nouns to describe this
emptiness, the way it lies
in the shape of a spiral notebook
that writes the history of us
 
 
how thirty-two seasons together
equals the distance between two pillows
 
 
I swallow another mouthful of darkness
& drown myself in sounds of this night


my writer’s ghosts will visit soon
 
 
& these thin walls are whispering
the forecast calls for snow
 
 
 
 
 
 
lah  1.19.17 ©®
#poetry  #life  #love  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #marriage  #pain  #sadness  #emotional  #divorce  #separation 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~awakening

I am breathless

& suffocating my ghosts

my womb is brimming

with lake water

fully blue

& there are unburied bones

drowning like poems

I am breathless

standing inside my own complication

with vowels in my eyes

loosening this darkness

into long shadows of summer

I will not ask you to say my name

in the tangle

in the tremble & the wilding

I am breathless

& I want to move like wind

my body

a symphony of birds

lah 2.20.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~awakening
I am breathless
& suffocating my ghosts
my womb is brimming
with lake water
fully blue


& there are unburied bones
drowning like poems


I am breathless
standing inside my own complication
with vowels in my eyes
loosening this darkness
into long shadows of summer


I will not ask you to say my name
in the tangle
in the tremble & the wilding


I am breathless
& I want to move like wind

my body
a symphony of birds




lah 2.20.17 ©®
#poetry  #life  #death  #thoughts  #faith  #personal  #grief  #loss  #sadness  #hope  #mourning  #changes  #Optimism 
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Written by poeticasymptote in portal Stream of Consciousness

Time and time again...

it’s that particular time

    in the morning

    when the first sounds are heard

    other than heartbeats

         cock-a-doodle-doos

    alarm bells

    train horns

         chirps

         honks

         beeps

    foot shuffles

    switch clicks

    moonglow fades

last melody of the night ends

    dreams bottled

    clarity settles

    darkness parts

midway, a line starts

light paints a spectrum

everything comes alive

    night retires

horizons ascending

    tides lowering

sands start warming

cool breezes moving

    clouds parting

    fogs lifting

dewdrops leave the grass

    lighter blades at last

    cleaner greens

sun ray-showers begin

    bluer skies

    open eyes

    senses high

    spirits fly

    it’s a lot like that

I can imagine

that’s what happens when

    night and day

    sun and moon

    heaven and earth

        extend the world

            with sweet goodbyes

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Written by poeticasymptote in portal Stream of Consciousness
Time and time again...
it’s that particular time
    in the morning
    when the first sounds are heard
    other than heartbeats

         cock-a-doodle-doos
    alarm bells
    train horns
         chirps
         honks
         beeps
    foot shuffles
    switch clicks

    moonglow fades
last melody of the night ends
    dreams bottled
    clarity settles

    darkness parts
midway, a line starts
light paints a spectrum
everything comes alive
    night retires

horizons ascending
    tides lowering
sands start warming
cool breezes moving
    clouds parting
    fogs lifting

dewdrops leave the grass
    lighter blades at last
    cleaner greens
sun ray-showers begin

    bluer skies
    open eyes
    senses high
    spirits fly

    it’s a lot like that
I can imagine
that’s what happens when
    night and day
    sun and moon
    heaven and earth
        extend the world
            with sweet goodbyes
#poetry  #philosophy  #life  #time 
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Written by LadyOfBirds in portal Stream of Consciousness

Steps to the Cellar

Dreams of acetaminophen

crumble by in his sleep

dissolving into water droplets 

at heaven's gate because he

is a product of wise words 

and stolen wine...

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Written by LadyOfBirds in portal Stream of Consciousness
Steps to the Cellar
Dreams of acetaminophen
crumble by in his sleep
dissolving into water droplets 
at heaven's gate because he
is a product of wise words 
and stolen wine...
#poem  #life  #dreams  #glimpses 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~notes on reconciliation

 

 

 

 

 

I imagined we were asleep

 

 

still unpaired

or perhaps unprepared

and aching to be lost in

a dream

 

 

quiet while the air moved

between us

 

 

unaware that forgiveness is

a red wall

with no windows

and the only way to see out

is to look within

and emerge like an august sun

full of warmth

 

 

to breathe together

and move together

in a moment

 

 

the way our lips trembled the words

like water

soft blue streams that pulled

what was left in the right direction

so we could find our way

back to each other

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

lah  7.26.12 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~notes on reconciliation
 
 
 
 
 
I imagined we were asleep
 
 
still unpaired
or perhaps unprepared
and aching to be lost in
a dream
 
 
quiet while the air moved
between us
 
 
unaware that forgiveness is
a red wall
with no windows
and the only way to see out
is to look within
and emerge like an august sun
full of warmth
 
 
to breathe together
and move together
in a moment
 
 
the way our lips trembled the words
like water
soft blue streams that pulled
what was left in the right direction
so we could find our way
back to each other
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
lah  7.26.12 ©®
#poetry  #life  #reflection  #love  #relationships  #thoughts  #personal  #marriage  #introspection  #divorce  #separation  #retrospection 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~notes on winemaking

    tilt your head, small bird

listen to the coming rain

moisten the tree

as she lifts her leaves to flirt

with wind

observe the way her slight limbs

sway

the delicate shape of her boughs

    pressing

arcing against the plum skin of a

thundering sky

    pressing

until plump clouds burst

blackberries to wine

    tilt your head, small bird

as she flowers like dogwood

lah  7.9.15 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~notes on winemaking





    tilt your head, small bird
listen to the coming rain
moisten the tree
as she lifts her leaves to flirt
with wind


observe the way her slight limbs
sway
the delicate shape of her boughs
    pressing
arcing against the plum skin of a
thundering sky
    pressing
until plump clouds burst
blackberries to wine


    tilt your head, small bird
as she flowers like dogwood




lah  7.9.15 ©®
#romance  #poetry  #life  #weather  #love  #nature  #thoughts  #personal  #seasons  #seduction 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~rote

it's winter & the night smells of smoke

& ache

I'm alone

in a house full of black ink

a thousand miles from here

searching for something that belonged to you

older than an apology

something quiet

like the cadence in caesuras of

february's shifting snow

as white as an empty page

it's always winter & I am not this

when I measure the sound of clouds

moving their darkness like yesterday's words

& when I measure the thickening air

between us by months

by my shadow's long bones

sleeping in a bed of separation

it's the same way I assemble assonance

in a small room with small walls

as it calls out metaphors

until it echoes in my ribs, ghosting

my voice

it's still winter & I remember forgetting

I'm growing older

colder between these sheets

writing you in this poem I pretend to be

& trying to name this grief

lah 2.11.17 ©®

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~rote
it's winter & the night smells of smoke
& ache

I'm alone
in a house full of black ink
a thousand miles from here

searching for something that belonged to you
older than an apology
something quiet
like the cadence in caesuras of
february's shifting snow

as white as an empty page

it's always winter & I am not this

when I measure the sound of clouds
moving their darkness like yesterday's words
& when I measure the thickening air
between us by months
by my shadow's long bones
sleeping in a bed of separation

it's the same way I assemble assonance
in a small room with small walls
as it calls out metaphors
until it echoes in my ribs, ghosting
my voice

it's still winter & I remember forgetting

I'm growing older
colder between these sheets
writing you in this poem I pretend to be
& trying to name this grief




lah 2.11.17 ©®
#poetry  #life  #reflection  #love  #thoughts  #personal  #marriage  #loss  #pain  #sadness  #divorce  #separation 
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Written by LadyOfBirds in portal Poetry & Free Verse

The Lighthouse

The wind carries whispers

the wind carries lies

the wind carries souls

into unforgiving skies

Where the sea is the ruler

and her wrath is seen wise

but her wisdom is a battle

of the sailor's told demise

Ah, the future is a gift

and the sailor sees this true

but hope is always blinded 

by the cold curtain blue

And he seeks for the answers

and he seeks for what is right

like a story told by children

in a flood of burning light

He shouts from the ship

and he calls into the night

but the seabirds are against him

and they block the faithful light

So he cries out to the spirits

that float above the mast

and they stare upon his face 

and summon up the past

He stumbles into visions

and a lighthouse he did see

as the sun rose to collect him,

to set his fortunes free

While the ship continued on 

in the storm, was granted lost

where his body found rocky shelter 

though his soul was the cost

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Written by LadyOfBirds in portal Poetry & Free Verse
The Lighthouse
The wind carries whispers
the wind carries lies
the wind carries souls
into unforgiving skies

Where the sea is the ruler
and her wrath is seen wise
but her wisdom is a battle
of the sailor's told demise

Ah, the future is a gift
and the sailor sees this true
but hope is always blinded 
by the cold curtain blue

And he seeks for the answers
and he seeks for what is right
like a story told by children
in a flood of burning light

He shouts from the ship
and he calls into the night
but the seabirds are against him
and they block the faithful light

So he cries out to the spirits
that float above the mast
and they stare upon his face 
and summon up the past

He stumbles into visions
and a lighthouse he did see
as the sun rose to collect him,
to set his fortunes free

While the ship continued on 
in the storm, was granted lost
where his body found rocky shelter 
though his soul was the cost





#fiction  #poetry  #life  #death  #lighthouse 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~the colors of condolence

x. blue

 

 

notice the still-life

     a landscape of salt

 

 

this is the way

it must stay

 

 

until the end of rain

 

 

 

x. black

 

 

grip the brass

like long movements on a slide trombone

 

 

      stone-heavy

 

 

 

x. yellow

 

 

there is no hesitation from

migrating birds

as they navigate upward, the direction

of sky

 

 

yet still

I will barter

      prayerlike

 

 

my half-halo for their wings

 

 

 

x. grey

 

 

bent spines

     bent knees

 

 

we are lower than

we were

 

 

we are wood

behind the nail

 

 

 

x. white

 

 

below the windowsill

of a poet

 

 

the oleander is personified

like a white flag

     waving, waving

 

 

I nod my head

and simply walk away

 

 

 

lah  3.8.14 ©®

 

the five stages of grief -

i - denial
ii - anger
iii - bargaining
iv - depression
v - acceptance



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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~the colors of condolence





x. blue

 
 
notice the still-life
     a landscape of salt
 
 
this is the way
it must stay
 
 
until the end of rain
 
 
 
x. black
 
 
grip the brass
like long movements on a slide trombone
 
 
      stone-heavy
 
 
 
x. yellow
 
 
there is no hesitation from
migrating birds
as they navigate upward, the direction
of sky
 
 
yet still
I will barter
      prayerlike
 
 
my half-halo for their wings
 
 
 
x. grey
 
 
bent spines
     bent knees
 
 
we are lower than
we were
 
 
we are wood
behind the nail
 
 
 
x. white
 
 
below the windowsill
of a poet
 
 
the oleander is personified
like a white flag
     waving, waving
 
 
I nod my head
and simply walk away
 
 
 
lah  3.8.14 ©®
 
the five stages of grief -
i - denial
ii - anger
iii - bargaining
iv - depression
v - acceptance


#poetry  #life  #death  #love  #grief  #loss  #pain  #sadness  #color  #mourning  #vignettes  #association 
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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse

~45 shades of movement

i. [tea]

 

we pour ourselves into
moments
as if we're fluid

poetry
steeped in tradition

like mountains

 

 

ii. [window]

 

there is an outreach
of glass

over thick coasts and hills
distant
and cooling fast

 


iii. [swallow]

 

heavy words

hooks in
fishboned throats

we gasp for air

grasp blindly at the
westwind 

 

 

iv. [daisy]

 

in the dark
we can count petals

like strangers
meeting again

in silence

in spring 

 

 

v. [pond]

 

there
just past the willow

lanterns ripple across
distilled water 

and become a
folded reflection

 

vi. [rain]

 

there's a moment
of wet
kissing old and familiar

grandmother's hair
drips
onto grandfather's hand

 

 

 

vii. [road]

 

a destination unknown

yet cadence found
their journey
so far south

that narrow winding path
 

 

 

viii. [tree]

 

at the end
there is something to linger

history and roots
to hold you back

 

 


ix. [mailbox]

 

an open shutter
rattles its invitation
to garden tea

to reminisce about
wind and bluebirds

 

 

x. [neighbor]

 

she's alone
in a land so barren
it makes me wonder

if she'll ever marry

 

 

xi. [porch]

 

afternoons are always
quietest

so many azaleas


pinks and reds
scattered about

two steps away 
 

 

xii. [cricket]

 

it transgresses
to a state of small

a note
to signal the coming
of wakes

 

 

xiii. [wind chime]

 

perhaps it mimics
lethargy

emptied of inertia

unable to quiver
even the tiniest
of handbells

 

 

xiv. [incense]

 

the smoke
makes whirlpools

the humming does not stop
until low tide

mother is praying

 

 

xv. [dusk]

 

verse spreads the length

of legs

 

softens wrinkles

from her skirt

 

she dresses

for evenfall

 

 

xvi. [bed]

 

she wakes

to frustrated sheets

 

sometime after dawn

the pillow left

 

for a corner unloved

 

 

xvii. [moon]

 

the longest hours are

barefaced

bareboned

 

dilated eyes stare

spellbound by

the ordinary

 

unreflective smiles

 

 

xviii. [wind]

 

the living room stiffens

you want someone
to air out

the blue

or other melancholy

 

 

xix. [letter]

 

there's confusion in the

vernacular

 

like an undeciphered

alphabet

 

yet your signature is the

same

 

 

xx. [dog]

 

there is one more
thinking about you

a long howl

and the moon moans too

 

 

xxi. [door]

 

this house, lonely

with shuttered pane

 

goodbye peels like

paint

 

isn't red a welcoming color?

 

 

 

xxii. [sand]

 

there is more to burden
than still water

so faraway

brown and orange in edges

 

 

xxiii. [garden]

 

cobblestone paths
lead us to empty
benches

scent of peonies
carries us past
clear streams

 

 

xxiv. [river]

 

this little bottle
empties into something

more turbulent

rapids of whitewater

to wash your words

 

 

xxv. [frog]

 

caught between cattails

and greenglass

 

still letters spill

 

linger there among

the medley of

throatsongs

 

 

xxvi. [reed]

 

be careful
of meadowlarks

you might stumble
into autumn
bending
to part a soft song


 

xxvii. [shadow]

 

notice how midnight narrates

poetry

 

rhythmically

in couplets

 

like a message emptied

behind the ribs

 

 

xxviii. [lark]

 

there is but a whisper
to sooth

wingtips
crossing another water

on wednesday

in winter

 

 

xxix. [gate]

 

swing subtly


unhinged
unrestrained

until we come together
like sunrise to dawn

flowering pink jasmine

 

 

xxx. [dream]

 

sober and steady

I---

the perfume of bloom
in cupped hands

a fragment of dawning

 

 

xxxi. [autumn]

 

september arrives

just before the tardy

bell

 

dressed for weather

 

starched gold on

wrinkled burgundy

 

 

xxxii. [train]

 

and there is
a coming and going

between stations

overlooking the east-
the west candor 

 

xxxiii. [distance]

 

initials in heart-carved
bark
must measure pressure
between limbs

trees grow fullest
near waters edge

 

 

xxxiv. [feet]

 

past the fence
five steps
from the closest sun

you try to steal
the light

 

 

xxxv. [clock]

 

tell me about the

hands of gravity

 

how breath descends

slower than an aching

voice

 

 

xxxvi. [cafe]

 

it is worth waiting
you think
as snow piles in inches

as the coffee cools

 

 

xxxvii. [coffee]

 

another thirteen hours

of caffeine sleeplessness

to decipher

 

the juxtaposition

between beans

and tea leaves

 

 

xxxviii. [newspaper]

 

at dawn
when you wake

you must know
there is more death

in the obituary

 

 

xxxix. [pigeon]

 

a mere observer

to the cadence of flight

 

its soft grey lift

 

sonata of wings

 

 

xl. [park]

we've been there
that path
around the grove

a temporary of us

of weak whispers 

 

 

xli. [lake]

 

our last visit to the dock

 

feet dipped into

the baptismal blue depth of

knowing

 

 

xlii. [ice]

we part with tongues
cooling the surface

the apology under the cold
with the fish

 

 

xliii. [stranger]

 

invisible

like a standstill fog

 

as perforated smoke

curls into

empty-armed echoes

 

left to wait

 

 

xliv. [traffic]

lines to march
and maybe even april

we will pause
in the corner of serendipity 
 

 

xlv. [passage]

 

and then read us

a thousand times

 

we're fluid
poetry


steeped in tradition
like mountains

 

 

lah 1.23.13 ©®

[springboard 15 word vignettes]

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Written by InkArtist in portal Poetry & Free Verse
~45 shades of movement
i. [tea]
 
we pour ourselves into
moments
as if we're fluid

poetry
steeped in tradition

like mountains
 
 
ii. [window]
 
there is an outreach
of glass

over thick coasts and hills
distant
and cooling fast
 

iii. [swallow]
 
heavy words

hooks in
fishboned throats

we gasp for air

grasp blindly at the
westwind 
 
 
iv. [daisy]
 
in the dark
we can count petals

like strangers
meeting again

in silence

in spring 
 
 
v. [pond]
 
there
just past the willow

lanterns ripple across
distilled water 

and become a
folded reflection

 
vi. [rain]
 
there's a moment
of wet
kissing old and familiar

grandmother's hair
drips
onto grandfather's hand
 
 
 
vii. [road]
 
a destination unknown

yet cadence found
their journey
so far south

that narrow winding path
 
 
 
viii. [tree]
 
at the end
there is something to linger

history and roots
to hold you back
 
 

ix. [mailbox]
 
an open shutter
rattles its invitation
to garden tea

to reminisce about
wind and bluebirds
 
 
x. [neighbor]
 
she's alone
in a land so barren
it makes me wonder

if she'll ever marry
 
 
xi. [porch]
 
afternoons are always
quietest

so many azaleas

pinks and reds
scattered about

two steps away 
 
 
xii. [cricket]
 
it transgresses
to a state of small

a note
to signal the coming
of wakes
 
 
xiii. [wind chime]
 
perhaps it mimics
lethargy

emptied of inertia

unable to quiver
even the tiniest
of handbells
 
 
xiv. [incense]
 
the smoke
makes whirlpools

the humming does not stop
until low tide

mother is praying
 
 
xv. [dusk]
 
verse spreads the length
of legs
 
softens wrinkles
from her skirt
 
she dresses
for evenfall
 
 
xvi. [bed]
 
she wakes
to frustrated sheets
 
sometime after dawn
the pillow left
 
for a corner unloved
 
 
xvii. [moon]
 
the longest hours are
barefaced
bareboned
 
dilated eyes stare
spellbound by
the ordinary
 
unreflective smiles
 
 
xviii. [wind]
 
the living room stiffens

you want someone
to air out

the blue

or other melancholy
 
 
xix. [letter]
 
there's confusion in the
vernacular
 
like an undeciphered
alphabet
 
yet your signature is the
same
 
 
xx. [dog]
 
there is one more
thinking about you

a long howl

and the moon moans too
 
 
xxi. [door]
 
this house, lonely
with shuttered pane
 
goodbye peels like
paint
 
isn't red a welcoming color?
 
 
 
xxii. [sand]
 
there is more to burden
than still water

so faraway

brown and orange in edges
 
 
xxiii. [garden]
 
cobblestone paths
lead us to empty
benches

scent of peonies
carries us past
clear streams
 
 
xxiv. [river]
 
this little bottle
empties into something

more turbulent

rapids of whitewater

to wash your words
 
 
xxv. [frog]
 
caught between cattails
and greenglass
 
still letters spill
 
linger there among
the medley of
throatsongs
 
 
xxvi. [reed]
 
be careful
of meadowlarks

you might stumble
into autumn
bending
to part a soft song

 
xxvii. [shadow]
 
notice how midnight narrates
poetry
 
rhythmically
in couplets
 
like a message emptied
behind the ribs
 
 
xxviii. [lark]
 
there is but a whisper
to sooth

wingtips
crossing another water

on wednesday

in winter
 
 
xxix. [gate]
 
swing subtly

unhinged
unrestrained

until we come together
like sunrise to dawn

flowering pink jasmine
 
 
xxx. [dream]
 
sober and steady

I---

the perfume of bloom
in cupped hands

a fragment of dawning
 
 
xxxi. [autumn]
 
september arrives
just before the tardy
bell
 
dressed for weather
 
starched gold on
wrinkled burgundy
 
 
xxxii. [train]
 
and there is
a coming and going

between stations

overlooking the east-
the west candor 

 
xxxiii. [distance]
 
initials in heart-carved
bark
must measure pressure
between limbs

trees grow fullest
near waters edge
 
 
xxxiv. [feet]
 
past the fence
five steps
from the closest sun

you try to steal
the light
 
 
xxxv. [clock]
 
tell me about the
hands of gravity
 
how breath descends
slower than an aching
voice
 
 
xxxvi. [cafe]
 
it is worth waiting
you think
as snow piles in inches

as the coffee cools
 
 
xxxvii. [coffee]
 
another thirteen hours
of caffeine sleeplessness
to decipher
 
the juxtaposition
between beans
and tea leaves
 
 
xxxviii. [newspaper]
 
at dawn
when you wake

you must know
there is more death

in the obituary
 
 
xxxix. [pigeon]
 
a mere observer
to the cadence of flight
 
its soft grey lift
 
sonata of wings
 
 
xl. [park]

we've been there
that path
around the grove

a temporary of us

of weak whispers 
 
 
xli. [lake]
 
our last visit to the dock
 
feet dipped into
the baptismal blue depth of
knowing
 
 
xlii. [ice]

we part with tongues
cooling the surface

the apology under the cold
with the fish
 
 
xliii. [stranger]
 
invisible
like a standstill fog
 
as perforated smoke
curls into
empty-armed echoes
 
left to wait
 
 
xliv. [traffic]

lines to march
and maybe even april

we will pause
in the corner of serendipity 
 
 
xlv. [passage]
 
and then read us
a thousand times
 
we're fluid
poetry

steeped in tradition
like mountains
 
 

lah 1.23.13 ©®


[springboard 15 word vignettes]
#poetry  #life  #reflection  #nature  #thoughts  #personal  #micropoetry  #epic  #microvignettes  #vignettes  #springboard 
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