Deja vu

.......

scrolling

words rose from the page like smoke

sweet smoke from an ember tipped wand

scented smoke from a warm glowing ember

chapter upon chapter
the ruby tipped wand

made light of the page
in the unlit room

words curled like smoke

caressed the ceiling
leaned back

kissed the window

the page turned
 words gripped the page
like tallies of worth
with talons distended

the ceiling fell

in a puff of smoke

a few last wisps 

clung to the glass

of the night darkened window

the ember paled leaving
an ashen tipped stick
in its stead

.......

Rufous

One of a charm of Rufous Hummingbirds, blownup and blurry




.......

OOOPS!

OH WELL

Lost in the ether, probably not alone though.

January

January arrives portrayed by a two headed god. A new year begins and an old one ends on a calendar which follows the sun and forgets the moon. The computer faithfully registers the change by immediately eliminating the numeral two and replacing it with a three. Nature is indifferent.

More reflective of nature is the garden. It is encircled by trees and the ground beneath them grows wild and untamed. Leaves lie where they land sheltering wild flower seeds and bugs. The birds pick through them. The cat watches the birds. The dog chases the cat. The birds fly away. They will come back. 

Somewhere between nature and calendar, one small corner of the garden sits outright in the sun and is cultivated. It flooded unto desolation in December. As the water receded, wind bared the carefully tended plot into gnarly swirls of mud soaked straw. January topped it with ice. It will need a kind hand to be beautiful again. 

Other than the usual winter disarray, the garden left wild is undisturbed.

.......

Spiral

Out of the hollows of abandoned bones
a liminal hand strikes on stone
the silent pulse between dusk and night
there carves the image
 of sound and light.

.......

The Elephant's Room

It's ten before midnight.
December's in twilight.

The cards face their falling

in an unfinished drawing

near the end of this year.

It's ten before midnight.
December's in twilight.

The book is recycling

as the tree pens the writing

near the end of this year

It's ten before midnight.
December's in twilight.

Time is kept swaying

by a waltz that's been playing

near the end of this year.

It's ten before midnight.
December's in twilight.
The cat knows who's hiding.
The doves know who's flying

near the end of this year.

.......

Chapter Six (The Flood)

images images images

pages in the book

tried to press them together
to keep them dry

they flew apart

into the blue which is sky

into the sky which is whole

.......