It's Still Life

A Metaphor for … Grief.It’s cliffs crumbling down.Grief,holding its breath andhiding beneath open sky. It’s deepcalling to deep, and shelays down infinitiy’s griefupon winter’s flame,and it leaps to burn. Written for PAD (poem-a-day challenge) Day 20: a metaphor poem. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or…

Be Prepared … There’s a hurricane in that house.Two sisters hunkered down,they know the slippery slope,the long tail of these storms. Words gone, wounds reappearing. Their mother thinks she canwalk on water, like Jesus –she goes to church on Sundays,sometimes Tuesdays, too, and while one sister watches sunrises,the other says she’ll conjureloaves of bread. Like…

Chance … is drawing a bow across strings and hitting the right note or finding someone that makes you remember that you are flesh and fire Written for PAD (Poem-a-DayChallenge) Day 18 “Chance”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not…

Craving is … … a fragile ring of ice forming at the edge of the birdbath, and still all you can think of is ice cream, and … your bed, when your eyes won’t stay open, even thoughpolice cars and sirens bluster from the TV, and … when you want to stop eating red meat,…

A Poem for Still Life … Moon. Trees. River. Fallen leaves.One plain brown bird whose heartRings like trinkets. Winged chorister. Each star. A far beacon breaksA new day for an old world. EveryDawn writes new poems for thee. I would not teach a nightingale to Sing sweetly, nor snout this nightFor truffles under a halo…

Nameless … He knew the measure of itwhen he ran along the fence,knew the measureof cold heavens shining. Four bones, thinner than night –on limbs to carry him tirelessly.And his fur was the colourof salt-edged sand or windscattered across frost. And I hummed him a tune of5 twilight notes, an ancientsummoning lest we forget,a tune…