Sunday, September 29, 2013

Change of Seasons

Winter approaches
in thousand-foot increments
heralded by mountain-measuring

Snow above ten thousand feet
flounces across peaks
frothy skirts from a period drama
Snow down to eight thousand feet
sends chills trickling down foothills
whispering across sandal-clad toes
athletes stand askew, weather eye
on peaks -- anticipating
fall’s icy end while
the squeals of sprinkler-dashing children
tangle in still-green 
leaves whose veins run red

At six thousand feet
closets are turned inside-
out come jackets and hats
gloves scatter across the floor
like sidewalk leaves
in preparation for
the next 

Saturday, September 28, 2013

At The End

In the midnight of our days
routines will have
fossilized. Fried eggs will grace
every breakfast plate. I’ll refuse
your daily offer of juice

There will be no more
surprises. Politics
will have rasped away our edges
loss rounded your rigid spine
contentment slowed my steps

borrowed or begotten
will make up for cataracts
Through hearing aids
their shouts become tame gurgles

You will climb ladders
unsteadily, whittling
away my endless honey-do list
and read the newspaper aloud
while I knit

Shuffling between the accumulated
ghosts of long lives
we won’t speak much, but

Papery skin will whisper
of old love when
your hand grasps mine
And we peer blindly
into the darkness

from a prompt at Poets of G+

Friday, September 27, 2013

Celestial Choir

I imagine angels

wings like helicopters
thrumming reflected
by a sodden sky

voices rasped by indrawn smoke
exhaustion tempered
with hot coffee

riding four wheeled chargers
that in no way resemble
fiery steeds

peering out from careworn faces
waiting for us to recognize
the divine within