prompt # 5 five short

symmetric triangles Hues and tints of a sun setting a dry, hot day has come to a close   pinrails a turning with the wind changing colors every time it comes to a stop   Northern lights a callin’ mirrored glass colored water an alien…

I Feel You – 5th hour poem

edited version: I Feel You   This biting wind comes too soon. It feels brittle under this sandy canopy. Though apart, we share the same night sky. Can you see what my eyes behold? Are there stars shining to brighten you, with dreams of what is…

Upper Basin

The details are lost entangled in places of granite and water so vivid then We four receded from being a group and stretched along the trail after descending from the high altitude pass Perhaps, it was calorie depletion or oxygen depletion or too many Ovid…

Procrastination

So many things to do & see maybe later. Necessary new skills to acquire & refine but not now. Unexplored places to go & people to meet Tomorrow, perhaps.      

Hour 5, Dust

El Paso’s rolling brownouts have nothing to do with a dearth of energy, but rather its excess. This town nestled in the triangle between desert, mountains, and lush Rio Grande is plagued by roiling winds in early Spring after months of drought. Choking ocher colored…

04:00 a.m Loneliness in its peak

She as the fifth child in peasant’ family was treated like an extra month not carefully, eldest siblings split nicely into pairs; she was upbringing alone… unfair! She got tried to approach daddy but in vain to drag him out of messy barn, he didn’t…

polarity

tonight each shadow is bright enough to scorch the darkness deeper can someone please weld our eyes closed we can’t wait for the morning sun to blind our sight

Prompt 4 The Cosmic Boat

Boat upon these tranquil waters— Resting in a pool of stars. If I dip my fingers over; Might I tinker with red Mars?   Firmament— divided waters. Might I travel through the void, to the other side of heaven? Seeing God, yet not destroyed.  …

Poetry Marathon Submission #5

Perseid’s Shower Submission #5 Ann WJ White We laid on our backs. Lake Itasca, the beginning of the Mississippi parkland. A family waiting for the dusk to transmogrify into night full of stars and silence. Waiting for meteors to travel at thirty-five seconds per mile…