a poem in my pocket

backyard maple tree

leaves of burnt orange and red

fall like sparks from flame

shy, precious girl

blushing in pink,

found yet lost

floating between green

dreams downstream

of rocky waterfall…

seems deeply refreshed

in shallows of peaceful

slumber but strangely

oblivious to cries…

no obvious trace

of blood where

tragedy struck

after family picnic.

frantic questions

why her? why now?

fell…pushed…or

(no!) jumped??

______________

An ekphrastic poem in response to Maria Berrio’s “Closed Geometry (2022) and Grace’s prompt at dVerse poets’ pub…

dust is the quality
of the very good beginning
when God himself knelt down, spit on the dirt
and formed a man with it, shaped in his own image;
it is elemental and breathes, or maybe coughs, immortality.

dust saves what’s leftover from
skin shed and stars reborn, the sparkle of supernovas
and the dead residue of a scratched itch or
the sunburned peelings of summer;
it is ever descending, never condescending.

dust collects furniture, uninvited
it prefers antique malls but will settle for IKEA
if left outdoors, it covers fields and raises crops,
partial neither to vegetables, wheat, nor weeds;
it is ubiquitous and determined, a silent trespasser

dust keeps ancestors hidden
under the bed or put away in the attic, remnants
of old photographs in mouse-nibbled boxes, with
or without lids, unlabeled and unorganized;
it is freedom of no longer being confined to a body.

dust is the stuff of both
our past and future; we will all eventually
return to it which means it both comforts and
frightens us at different moments or maybe simultaneously
it is morbidity and chaos buried in cool, decaying soil.

_______________

Written in the style of “The Quality of Sprawl” by Les Murray and linked to poetics prompt by Kim at dVerse Poets pub.

we humans exhibit many differences

in shades of skin, hair, and eyes

older and younger generations

in experience and education

our languages and cultures

beliefs, opinions, habits

there’s beauty in diversity, don’t let differences divide!

we all run in one human race

we bleed red and die once

everyone needs food and clean water

a place to live and people to love

productive, rewarding, useful work

can we provide for each other?

there’s beauty in diversity, don’t let differences divide!

Spring brings tulips to full bloom in the Netherlands. A rainbow riot of colors paints the landscape. The industrious Dutch ancestors reclaimed the fertile polders from the North Sea and planted flower bulbs. Speculators and a bulb shortage raised the value of certain varieties in the 1630’s. The Dutch traded bulbs like currency.

Amsterdam hosts the annual Tulip Festival which offers a month-long feast for the eyes in the city squares and parks. In late April, the Bloemencorso Bollenstreek, a stunning parade of flowery floats ridden by celebrants, travels from Noordwijk to Haarlem. Anyone visiting Holland must see the Keukenhof in Lisse, one of the world’s most magnificent gardens.

By late spring, the best of the blooms are past so be sure to time your visit carefully. You don’t have to be Dutch to appreciate the unique beauty of tulips!

love blooms in the spring

what is favorite dutch treat

tulips or two lips?

______________

Spring haibuns served at dVerse Poets pub with Linda Lee Lyberg this Monday…join us!

We met Maria on F2F trip and returned home to hear sermon on John 5…comparisons and contrast are striking!

along bank’s river

where snows fall twice

there flows fish ice

beneath the candling sky

of ceiling wax

a waxing seal

barks swimmingly in whalousy,

“’tis otterly ridiculous-ness, yes?”

_______

Join us for word play at dVerse poets!