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Tag Archives: aubades
{and other theories of the dawn}
(an aubade) :: we oh-bayed the sun, rose to his thorny shine. even though this day’s got teeth. even though the moon had pull. even though all things flew south. we looked him straight in his pretty, blingy mouth and tried to make sense of all this bright … Continue reading
what shall we call this small silence?
these hopeful moments before dawn that say anything could be, that we could hold the whole earth in our hungry hands, swallow these last stars. the ghosts of steam from our mugs make poems of all things, this swirl of cream a galaxy. that … Continue reading
Aubade to Rooster’s Crow
Somebody switched on the skylights too soonand the moon slipped out of her own silhouette and we have yet to find a way to make her stay. I am already mourning stars, all pinpricked hope and other tiny ways to wish … Continue reading
aubade (in the key of d)
(minor) morning breaks her open, flames too soon. she’s already mourningdarkness, stars and a sinking treble-trembled moon.
Posted in moon poems, November Chapbook 2022
Tagged aubades, key of de, moon, morning, music, treble
3 Comments
aubade with a broken smile
morning breaks us open, and we ponder dragon-breath clouds and all that crimson fire. we’ve already held these miles between our teeth and found them too salty, too muddled-much for day’s embrace. the sky’s a quiet place to trace our last good -byes. ::Linda’s got a great word … Continue reading
Posted in aubades, dVerse poems, Quadrille
Tagged aubades, here there be dragons, morning, pondering clouds, Q44, Quadrille, sky songs
20 Comments
aubade to broken
the day cracks open with a scarlet smile to hide its mourning. that first bird caw is the empty gnaw of displaced dark. we wanted more. we wanted all. we wanted whole moon-light, not that evil Cheshire cat smile broken fingernail crescent scar now fading. ::In April, we poem.
Aubade with Yolk on Its Face
:: And suddenly the day’s cracked open like a broken storm,with me alone at center. :: In November, we poem. This one’s an aubade.
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged aubades, broken, egg poems, morning poems, November Chapbook Challenge 2021, storms, sunrise
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Aubade with eggshell shards
The day cracks open (again) too soon, all broken yolk goo and too-bright sky. She wasn’t quite finished with that silken moon, the silver-blackeyed promises of stars. It’s got sharp edges and a bird-song sting, too many things and not enough salt. ::PAD, day 22.
Abide (an Aubade)
Crack open that bright blue dawn and watch the sun yawn and stretch again, begin to light our f(l)ight. We raise wings and sing, abide in deeper things than the morrows and sorrows of this place. This day, we find grace in the staying. :: it’s Quadrille … Continue reading
Hesitations of the Dawn
We forget her scar -let dress is just for early risin’, surprisin’ us with all its crimson silk applause. Pause, take a second ………..look , and book a table for two near the horizon. .. Prompted by Poetic Asides. … Continue reading
Posted in Uncategorized
Tagged aubades, crimson dawn, dawn, Poetic Asides, scarlet dress, waiting for dawn
4 Comments