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Year’s End
White Cat Clouds Stretch And Leap Across The Sky, Driven By Arctic Winds Sweeping Down From North And East, To Surprise The Desert Night. Snowflakes Drift Down, Then Blow Straight Up Again, To Fall Elsewhere, As I Wait For The Sunlight.
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Christmas Flight
Crows, Ink Drops Against The Sky, Wheel In An Arc, Then Divide Their Number Among The Leafless Trees. They Hang, Black Ornaments Of The Season, Celebrating Themselves With Raucous And Disdainful Cries. Solstice
The Blue Train Speeds Across The Sky In A Snowy Surround Of Puffed Clouds, Rises Over The Mountain Ridge And, Heedless Of Risk, Rushes Away Toward West Texas, Where Roses Bloom In Winter. Mistakes
Those Pickpockets Of Illusion, The Disappointers, The Too Lates, The Forgetters, Yes, Them All. They Walk Beside Me, Indeed, They Are Me. Yes, Yes, Regret Is Futile. We All Fail Our Hopes, I know. I make Do, And Tell Myself Those Transparent Ghosts That Follow Me, That I see Everywhere, Are Only A Trick Of The Light. Threat
George Clooney Says (And I’m With Him) That Sony Was Loony, Giving In To Kim, That Jerk, Because He Didn't Like Their Work. If I Had The Chance To Make Kim Do A dance, I’d Show That Film On Building Walls World Wide, And Take His Impudent Dare In Stride. He’s All Hot Air. But Everyone Already Knows He’s Just An Evil Pose, A vicious Tumor, Without A sense Of Humor. We Didn't Need Sony To Sell Us An Adolescent Show To Say So. December
Thin Strands Of Snowy Rain Fall Straight Down, Wetting The Streets, And Forming Ragged Patches In The Grass. Now Larger Flakes Join The Dance. Bracelets Of Frost Gather On Barren Branches And Drip Icy Tears, Like Lovers Abandoned By The Sun. Holiday
The Sharp Leaves Of The Holly Bush Stab My Fingers As I Hang The Large Outdoor Christmas Ornaments, A Note Of Cheer For This Honored Feast Day. In Other Years, There Was Noise And Glitter, But Now I celebrate In Solitude. The Brittle Leaves Pierce My Skin, And A Single Drop Of Blood Spills Onto The Shiny Surface Of A Crimson Ball, And Disappears. Flight
If I could, I would Go Back, Coast Down The Long Hill Into Kenilworth, Walk Out Across The Fragrant, Herb Laden Fields Until I forgot Time, And Dissolved Into The Gorse Dotted Green.  Winter Garden
Forcing Narcissus In a Sunlit Spot, For Holiday Blooms. Slender Green Blades Rise Cobra- Like From The Pot As Christmas Looms. No Gift Could Bring Better Than A living Thing, A fragile Flower. Though They Will Only Last An Hour, They Leave Behind The Bulbs, To Grow Again In Spring, For A second Flowering. |
AuthorJeanette Collins Archives
February 2019
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