Category: Poetry
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7.04: Poem-a-Day Challenge
The Birdbath Aleph the old woman with no catrefills the birdbath. it’s half-rusted,and holds all the waterand thirst of the sky. a single featherfloats like a commain god’s draftof the world. the cat is a cosmic overlord, watching. “The ocean,” he marvels,“is just a birdbathfor baptisingfragments of heaven.” PAD (Poem-a-Day Challenge) Day 6 with Prompt:…
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06.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
About The Old Woman Without a Cat The Old Woman and the Spiral Eyes the old woman with no cat—her vision unwinds itselflike a cassette tape left in the rain—the world smudges, blooms,becomes an impressionist’s afterthought. rest your rebel eyes, says the cat,knocking over her reading glassesfor the third time today.(it claims it’s helping.) she…
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04.4: Old Woman With No Cat
Knees That Leave Fossils the earth remembersthe old woman with no cat— remembers her, not as a saint, but as a forcewhose knees leave fossils in the soil— kneel long enough,and even prayer becomes a root. The crow approves. “Finally—a saint who digsinstead of floating.” PAD (Poem-a-Day Challenge) Day 4 with Prompt: mess. Some artwork…
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02.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
More About The Old Woman Without a Cat The Old Woman With No Cat and the Crow the old woman with no catsits in her wicker chair,spring sunlightwarming her bones, arranged like kindlingwaiting for warmth from a match. a crow hops across the lawn,its feathers oil-slick black,a hole in the world’s brightness, one foot, then…
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Day 3: Poem-a-Day Challenge
A Crow with a Pocketful of Stanzas (a tricube diptych) I. The Arithmetic of Yellow Sun’s shorthand—Grandma’s cakeand bee’s sigh. Dandeliontime bombstick, bloom, flee. Door left ajar—light poolsin threes—free. II. Crow’s Afternoon Tea Black beaks dipin stanzas—sweet, sharp, thief. “Honey-dust?”No—sun’s rustand grief’s leaf. They caw, flee,wingtips smudgedwith your laugh. Here are the rules of tricubes:…
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Day 2: Poem-a-Day Challenge
Beyond All the Summers I’ve Seen It’s the start of the day,light in the thicket and the wood. There’s a mellow light, mellower than sunrise,somewhere yellower than daffodils,somewhere beyond all the summers I’ve seen. Yellow, like honey, yet somehow sweeter—sweeter than love letters yet to be sent.Where light writes the names of pardons on leaves.…
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Day 1: Poem-a-Day Challenge
The Flour and the Fleeing The clocks rang out a timeless chime,Its singing breath was summer’s rhyme It was the best of times—or so we swore,fingers licked, sticky frosted buns we stole.A hint of sugar clung to our clothes—our delicious mischief it was so. I saw it all: the flour and the fleeing.How light bends…
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01.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
The Old Woman Without a Cat the old woman with no cat sitson the garden step in perfect past tense,next to daffodils that are going papery dry and swollen with seeds. she knows she should snap off theirlittle dead heads, leave them headless as if she were a protagonistin a nursery rhyme, but instead she…
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26.03: Let the Last Breath Linger
Prosery: Let the Last Breath Linger some memories, like thin bells,vanishing, a song faint and low. A summer of being. Thirteen. Surrendering my mornings to the public library—piles of books, biblichor, waiting quiet as secrets. Quiet as a librarian’s finger to her lips: shush. I devoured the Dewey Decimal System. It became a fiery furnace…
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Remake (revised)
I encourage anyone with an interest in music to move their little mouse to Breaking Boundaries, and ‘subscribe’ so you don’t miss any of the posts. This particular post features a brilliantly done ‘cover’. Go listen. In music Remake is an alternative version of a song by other than its original performer. Although most remakes…
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