Thursday, August 29, 2019

On the Shore


On the Shore

I stand on the shore
and watch the lake ripple.
The ducks come and go.
They may drop from the sky
or jump from a spot
right next to me.
I wish I could follow.
Hit the water and play
or swim away.
The wind picks up
and gives me a shake.
As my fantasy fades,
I accept that those things
are not in my nature.

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Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Self-Seeding


Self-Seeding

The seed pod stands high on
the plant as though it is
overseeing the land.
In due time, it bursts open.
Some seeds drop close to home.
Others hitch a ride on the wind,
taking a chance that they will find
another place that gives them
an opportunity to grow.

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Thursday, August 22, 2019

Make Landfall


Make Landfall

Make landfall.
Endings we cannot forestall.
Trust leads--you know where to stop.
Drop

down, unwind.
Forget what you left behind.
Take in all that you can see.
Be.


This poem is written in an Irish form called deibide baise fri toin.

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Tuesday, August 20, 2019

What's the difference?


What's the difference?

The flower is the same.
The soil is the same.
The exposure to the sun is the same.
The amount of water is the same.
The weather is the same.
So, what's the difference?
The way the petals turn out.

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Thursday, August 15, 2019

Showers and Shadows


Showers and Shadows

The showers come in the early hours.
Drops are left behind like calling cards.

The shadows show themselves as
the clouds make room for the sun.

The leaves display both to passersby as
if to say, "Look what happened today."


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Tuesday, August 13, 2019

Swaying


Swaying

The wind is gusty today.
The lavender waves.
The swaying doesn't scare guests.
They simply hold on.

This poem is version one of the kouta.

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Thursday, August 8, 2019

Curl Up


Curl Up

Curl up and go to sleep.
You've earned the rest you seek.
A dream or two to work
through what's on your mind.

RESToration happens overnight.
Just close your eyes, breathe in,
breathe out until your body
tells you it's time to rise.

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Tuesday, August 6, 2019

Discarded Lines


Discarded Lines

It happens all the time.
I have to cut a line.
It may be one that
gives a poem its start
or one that touches my heart.
It sounds so good on its own,
but it becomes a weed among
those that grow around it.
I'll save it for another day 
I say, then add it to the list 
with all the others.

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Thursday, August 1, 2019

Seek the Shade


Seek the Shade

Seek the shade
when the day
gets too hot.
Take the time
to cool off.
When refreshed,
face the heat
once again.

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