Wrinkled
Blue
Sky
Above,
A
Sea
Upside
Down,
The
Earth
Below
Winter
Brown.
December’s
Chill
Holiday
Will
Give
Way
To
Brief
New
Year’s
Play
And
This
Desperate
Year
Will
Fade,
Amid
The
Chaos
We
Have
Made.
Audit
Wrinkled Blue Sky Above, A Sea Upside Down, The Earth Below Winter Brown. December’s Chill Holiday Will Give Way To Brief New Year’s Play And This Desperate Year Will Fade, Amid The Chaos We Have Made.
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Illuminance
The Winter Half Moon Rides On One Side, Tilted, Listening, The White Light Frosty And Glistening, Making The Cold Night Bright. What She May Hear From Our Whirling Sphere Below, We Cannot Know, And Must Be Satisfied With Only Her Mute And Distant Glow, And The Ancient Secrets She Will Never Show. Reflection
In My Morning Cup Of Tea, I can See Shadows Of What Used To Be, And The Face Of Some One Who Once Was Me, A Street In Paris, The Dover Sea, Then It All Fades Into Obscurity. Chores
My Mind Today Is Blank, For Which I thank A Proclivity For Zealous Activity Cleaning My House. I’m An Industrious Mouse, Nibbling Away At Desert Dust That Settles Every Day, And Scrubbing To Release Bits Of Kitchen Grease. With My Electric Broom I zoom Through Every Room Like Mad, Wishing I had A Faithful Maid To Aid Me With Such Work, Which Out Of Decency I cannot Shirk. After All, I say, Moving From Wall To Wall, What I mean Is To Be Reasonably Clean. Gleaners
Black Birds Pass Back And Forth Across The Frosty Grass, Finding Bits On Which To Feed And Satisfy A Black Bird’s Need. They Nest In A Hollow Of My Elm Tree, High Up Where No One Can See Their Dusky Crew, Or Know What Black Birds Secretly Do. Bouquet
The Delicate Fragrance Of A White Rose Reaches My Nose And I am Able To Know Spring At My Breakfast Table. In My Yard, Covered In Thin Snow, Nothing Will Grow, So I buy Beauty As Though It Was My Duty To Keep Hope High That By And By, Things For Which I yearn Will Return. Cold Snap
Amber Leaves Descend While I sleep And Today Creep Along The Street In A Sluggish Fleet And Wither Around My Feet, Desolate And Small Remnants Of Fall. |
AuthorJeanette Collins Archives
March 2024
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