Midnight in the Sea of Darkness

Midnight in the Sea of Darkness

Midnight in the Sea of Darkness

Stealing
silently from the shallow depths
of the offshore shoals

Darkness
stolen from the holds
of a thousand sunken ships

Crept
to the broad base
of the tapered, towering torch

Enshrouding
the magnificence of a midnight sun
in the fog of a final farewell

Swallowing
the hulk of a stranded ship
within the silence of the sea

Anchoring
yet another immortal member
of a fleet frozen in darkness

 
Standing Alone, Dwight’s poem at Roth Poetry, brought to mind this poem, written in 1998.
The background image is a print from an engraving by John Horsburg of J. M. W. Turner’s artwork of Bell Rock Lighthouse during a storm from the northeast, available at The Library of Congress and found at Wikimedia Commons.

Center of Darkness

Center of Darkness

Center of Darkness

Ignore his voice at your own peril.
Though seemingly vacuous,

know that it is meant to pull us
into the darkness

he would have surround us.
The base emotions of fear and greed,

the center of his own darkness,
would be the law of the land

should enough fall for his appeal.
Stand against that voice,

that wall with a blackness
greater than any thicket,

more a forest dark
where blood runs thin

and none are expected
to find kinship in diversity.

This my first attempt to meet the prompt for Jilly’s Days of Unreason Challenge – here Day #23 – which offers this quote from Jim Harrison:

“His mind’s all black thickets and blood” from Songs of Unreason.

Image source: gocomics.com (© Jim Morin, Miami Herald)

What Remains – #writephoto

What Remains

What Remains_1See me now as I am and know
that mine is not a sad story.

My life could be held
in a feather, seemingly

insignificant, but with countless
strands holding both troubled times

and the promise delivered
What Remains_2by blue skies. Dipped in ink

to spill its tales, or carried on the wind
to those who have known me,

it speaks of a life lived.
See me now and know me.

This is my response to Thursday Photo Prompt: Remains #writephoto, from Sue Vincent at Daily Echo.  Sue has provided two photos for this week’s prompt.

writephoto

Moon Over the Hollow

Moon Over the Hollow

Moon Over the Hollow

Never winter. Yes, we would
gaze at the moon, feel its glow
off the snowy fields, but never
while sitting around an open fire.

The warmth of the wood stove was too enticing
for that. Summer and fall were the times.
Whether glowing coals were stretching
the heat of an August day long into night

or crackling flames were staving off the creeping
chill of late October, we could look skyward
in awe at the Milky Way and watch
that magnificent orb as it cleared the ridge.

Sitting at the edge of the wood,
watching it rise over the valley, did we
even know about super moons
in those days?

Or did we just know, as we tried to touch it?

Today’s full moon (January 31, 2018) is the third consecutive “supermoon.” Being the second full moon in January makes it a “blue moon.” To complete the trifecta, it’s also a “blood moon” in parts of the world that get to experience a full lunar eclipse (central and eastern Asia, Indonesia, New Zealand and Australia). The eclipse filtering out blue light lends a red hue to it. This is the first time a “super blue blood moon” has occurred in 150 years.

During the eighties we would visit my parents at their retirement home in the country. Sitting around an open fire, the night sky was a special treat.

Super-Blue-Blood-Moon_01-31-2018

Super Blue Blood Moon
from slooh.com via YouTube

Top image: January 2018 Blue Moon (click both images for larger view)

 

Heel-to-Toe

Heel-to-Toe

Heel-to-Toe

I walked in your footsteps,
different as they were from mine.
Our collars were the same,
though yours were more worn, and sometimes
I felt like I was swimming, heel-to-toe.
Experience, and the value of a dollar.
Did we treat our children the same?
You knew hardship and cold nights
in your childhood, so you worked hard
to spare me from adversity. My childhood
may not have been free of trials,
but it was carefree, even when
worn soles were patched with cardboard.
Does that forgive spoiling my children
to save them from hardship? Layers and years
separate your experience from mine,
but when you peel them back
we are not all that different.

This is my response to The Secret Keeper’s Weekly Writing Prompt #125, with the words step, treat, cold, hole & peel.

Image source: vangoghgallery.com (A Pair of Shoes, Vincent van Gogh)

Secret Keeper Prompt