Have you ever seen some clothing on a line?
Sunny flapping, bleaching white
Bits of fabric, strings, straps hanging fine,
They put up with the wind, they wave, they fight.
Category: Poetry (Page 3 of 3)
Tracks happen at the beach
Tracks like whispers in the sand
Hermet crab
Seagull
Pickup truck
I, a hawk, sitting high up in the trees
Looking out over my kingdom, I’m thinking
What do I have which makes me powerful?
Long ago, in ancient pasts,
Now forgotten, lost in time
I waited, ever patiently
For the bit of dirt that would be mine.
Softly float
Your gentle swellings
Ever rising and subsiding,
Whispering
Your ancient tellings.
Memories are like drops of water,
Each spherical and underestimated.
A single drop of water
Holds life for a potted plant.
Many drops of water
And the plant flourishes.
Too much water
And the plant wilts as if parched.
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Glob of jelly
Between some whole wheat—
Little purple Mount Everest.
Squish the bread
Down goes the jelly
Down goes purple Mount Everest.
Slapping and thumping, we play out there,
Four feet shod, two feet bare
There’s thorns, there’s prickles, there’s gnats in the air,
But we’re playing basketball. We don’t care.
Skating girl on wheels glide
With torn-up pants and busy mind
Braking, stopping, bent to find
A bit of trash was left behind.