Tag Archives: sun

happystance

see, what happened was that she walked outside and breathed the blue sky and saw the sun’s smile and breathed and believed and turned her happen-stance into a happy  d           a       n  c          e.  ::Written for Poetic Asides.

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one last flabbergasp 

this poem is all a-flutter, a-mutter-ment of swallowed moon and muddled sun.  she’s one (i am-bic) foot in, three (blank) sheets to the wind and counting.  she’s a fountain of be -wild-erment, a copper sunrise penny spent on dandelion wisheswith fluff-fine handles.  {bring candles.} she’s throwing a surprise party of … Continue reading

Posted in April PAD 2023 | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Oops.

I think maybe we released these fragile dreams too soon.  But you don’t owe me anything.  Any more than the sun need pardon the moon.  ::In April, she poems.

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Unpenned Ink & Other Liquid Types 

Take a minute.  Wipe your tears. Wind the clock hands back                      (clack black),trace your words on wounded skin and tear your poems in two.  Close your eyes.  Bow to the sun. Tell the wind she’s woundthat face one minute trace too soon.  Lean close to the stars,tie a bow on the moon.  :: In April, she poems.

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Loose Thoughts Caught by My Pillowtalk Blur 

The sky’s (somehow) chartreuse, and (wow!) there go all these paper poemkites loosed to wind.  The moon’s a lavender lozenge and I’ve got hum-mingbird wings, and dragon skin.  We live in the trees, breeze-lullabied and ample-limbed, writing merry manifestos in chalk.  Watch the river spill, it’s filled with limoncello and our rafts … Continue reading

Posted in April PAD 2023 | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Sun’s Up Again  And the world keeps turning and the sky keeps squawking and I swear you  just keep talking, while the geese fly by like little white lies.  Catch one for me, and wring its neck.  I dare you.  ::In November, we poem.

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Icarus Waning 

I know the feeling, Sir.  Of chutzpah,hubris, and unheeded warnings.  Of flapping full tilt into a too-bright sun.  .  Of falling  in love with this broken (open) sky.  ::In November, we poem.

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The Sun’s a Golden Lozenge 

And there’s a croak in my throat and so from now on I shall speak only in braille, the ache of words unspokenthe frail flurry of feathersthe echo of this bright sky.  I know the chance I’m takingbut it’s a choice I’m makingjust in case … Continue reading

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Sky Shenanigans

We’ve already swallowed a big ol’ slice of that lemon yellow sun; now we’re gonna sip some milky moon and scare us up some fun.  ::In November, we poem.

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Phoenix Rising 

Surprising, really how fast she finds her wings, cobbles broken things back together  and sets her self (less shattered) back to sun.  She molds a smile from emberedash and tears,  mosaics splintered years into a dragon-armored kite and calls herself wild, child of moon and other borrowed … Continue reading

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