The Only One
A night of one star. Many.
Matters not when I am drawn by
the brilliance of the one beside me.
A composite of essence holding
one element in lines, shades,
yet distinct. Love.
This poem is my response to Twiglet #241 – the only one.
Image
Astronomy Picture of the Day
© Lazlo Bagi
NGC 891 vs Abell 347
(click image for larger view in new tab)
the stars burn
unequaled ecstasy
the reward of true love
left ignored and untended
leads only to heartache
the pain of a burning star
This gogyohka is my response to Twiglet #240 – the stars burn.
Image
Astronomy Picture of the Day
© Robert Gendler, Roberto Colombari, Digitized Sky Survey (POSS II)
Vela Supernova Remnant Mosaic
(click image for larger view in new tab)
The corners of thirst know the absolute want and need I have for you.
This American sentence is my response to Misky’s Twiglet #239 – corners of thirst.
Image source: Wikimedia Commons (author, Mahdi Kalhor)
The Last Word
Nothing I say will change
You say will change
My mind
Yours
Already made up
Down to the last
Yours
Mine
This poem is my response to Misky’s Twiglet #236 – the last word.
Kansas
as in not in
anymore
but you are
barely in
KC BBQ
a reminder
wheels rolling
across plains
not so plain
hills rolling
from flint to smoke
at 75 miles per
grasshoppers nod
among remnants of wheat
in fresh-cut fields
destination, family
where words roll
in stories told
heat in the air
nothing compared to
warmth in the tales
with bonds
stronger than the hills
deeper than the bottoms
bonds now stronger yet
make parting
no easy task
hills, once more
until, finally
not there, anymore
A weekend trip took us to Kansas, where we celebrated Independence Day at a family gathering.
There’s nothing massive about the Flint Hills and the Smoky Hills of Kansas, but they still provide terrain with a striking view.
(Kansas City straddles the Missouri River and the Kansas-Missouri border.)
More travel for two weeks to visit family (starting Saturday) will means less time checking into WordPress.
Image: Library of Congress “a pumpjack, sometimes referred to as a ‘grasshopper’ oil pump because of its appearance”
like fingerprints
ten years
since we met
first touched
talked, held
walked side-by-side
knew poetry
the blues of sky
and water reflecting heights
little knowing
those heights were ours
the beginning
ten years of moments
impressions
no two the same
riding the waves
that have carried us
to this day
This poem is my response to Misky’s Twiglet #233 – like fingerprints.
Shadows Vanish
Choose a color in the white light
of a stark reality. Blink, and shadows vanish,
hidden beneath layers waiting to be revealed.
There is no mystery when the truth lies
before you. Later, when you realize
you’ll never really know, you can wonder
if you’ve made the right choice. Either way,
you’ll always be in the dark, looking for shadows.
This poem is my response to Twiglet #232 – shadows vanish.
happy as grass
top down, wind in my hair
slight breeze bends the tall grass
along a country road
brings a smile to my face
the grass laughs with me
This gogyohka is my response to Twiglet #231 – happy as grass.
Note: I absolutely dislike – hate – having the wind blow through my hair.
Image source: iStock
Neither open road nor open door could lead this heart to leave your side.
This American Sentence (my first) is in response to Misky’s Twiglet #230, with the prompt of no rope. Read closely, and you will find “no rope.”
The American Sentence was created by Allen Ginsberg
~ loose American form of haiku, with 17 syllables
~ represented as a sentence
~ reference to a season is not required
~ similar to senryū
~ read more here & here
Image source: cullybarbosa at Pixabay
Shared with How’s your remodeling going? which is Open Link Night at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, hosted by Lillian.
Silent, Like Sleep
Within the depths of my dreams lies the comfort
found in my mother’s arms, the same offered
in return, no words needed, when she was in need
in the last years of her life. While no soul is
ever truly silent, hers was gentle to the end,
and so she appears in my dreams.
The short poem is my response to Twiglet #227 from Misky, which offers this line as a prompt: “silent, like sleep.” Unable to adequately care for herself, my mother lived with me for the last two years of her life. Although it was a difficult time, I don’t regret a moment of it.
