Come hang out with us
Drop in anytime
Food on the fly
No formal program
We'll wing it
It's time to take a holiday break. The next post will be January 9, 2018.
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Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Thursday, December 14, 2017
Holiday Thaw
I asked Santa for
a holiday thaw.
Let us share warm
drinks and hot food.
Make the sun shine
outside and inside
so the ice will melt
and we will have
a breakthrough.
This poem was inspired by the Wednesday prompt, thaw, on the Poetic Asides website.
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Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Lunching Out
Lunching Out
No Reservations
Drop in Only
Share Tables Cordially
Buffet Style
Free Refills
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Thursday, December 7, 2017
Monday, December 4, 2017
Views
Views
We may not see
the same things
from our perches,
but we should be
able to sit together
and discuss our views.
Links
Links
Thursday, November 30, 2017
Superficial
Superficial
Light dances
on waves. We
are drawn to
the sparkle.
Dive into
depths unknown.
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Tuesday, November 28, 2017
Fly Away
Fly Away
Time to fly away
to a place where
the sun shines more.
I'll make new memories
in the light and
the darkness will
only be shadows.
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Thursday, November 23, 2017
Happy Thanksgiving
I am grateful for
the sunrise and the sunset
beauty that may be
and
beauty that has been
the vision and the memory
Tuesday, November 21, 2017
Clock Tower
Clock Tower
Time towers over the town,
faces in different directions.
On the sidewalks,
people worry about:
being on time,
wasting their time,
having no time.
In the meantime, the hands
of the clock move in
the steady rhythm--
tick-tock.
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Thursday, November 16, 2017
Scatter
Scatter
I watch the birds scatter.
Is something the matter?
Are they startled into flight
by some sound or sight?
Or, is this their unique way
to mark the start of a new day?
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Tuesday, November 14, 2017
The Artist Sees
The Artist Sees
the shapes of the leaves.
the patches of color.
the lines entwined.
the darkness of the bark.
the tilt of the trunk.
the painting in the trees.
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Thursday, November 9, 2017
Waves of Light
Waves of Light
Waves of light roll in.
I wonder how long they'll stay
and what they'll take away.
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Monday, November 6, 2017
Everything Looks Gray
Everything Looks Gray
There are days
when everything
looks gray, as
though night won't
quite give way.
It's not dark
but damp and hazy,
all the edges fuzzy.
I strain to see but
can't brighten up
the image.
I yearn for a
Kodachrome slide.
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Thursday, November 2, 2017
Morning Calls
Morning Calls
The gull is herald
of a new day.
Throws back its
head and cries out.
What does it mean,
this morning scream?
Is it a wake up
call to others
or the exclamation,
"I'm still here."
The 2017 November PAD Chapbook Challenge is underway. This is the poem I wrote for day one. The prompt is new day. Good luck to all the poets who are poeming and the prosets who are doing NaNoWriMo. Have a fun and productive November.
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Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Ghosts
Ghosts
The townsfolk think the house is empty.
They can't see
the footprints on
the floors.
They can't smell
the scents in
the woodwork.
They can't hear
the voices in
the air.
This place is filled with
everydays and holidays
and horrible days.
Its inhabitants are memories.
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Thursday, October 26, 2017
Left Behind
Left Behind
The seaweed feels
the tide recede.
It has been left
at the waters edge,
a decoration
on the sand.
It feels the drying
heat of the sun
and the careless
stomps and kicks
of humans.
It can do nothing
but wait for the sea to return
and sweep it up again.
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Tuesday, October 24, 2017
By the Sea
By the Sea
It's one of those weeks
when the tourists flock.
They seek a break
from their mundane.
Yearn to capture
the spectacular.
But, I'm at home here.
I love the routine.
The rhythm of the waves.
The sound of the wind.
The boats that go out.
The friends who drop in.
There is nothing I
would rather do
than spend a day
by the sea.
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