Hour 5

Oh, see the sun-
flower grow into the slant

of your smile.
Knit me a jumper

two sizes too big
so I can rise up to my existence,

fill up the space that once was
my self-doubted weeds growing

through cracks in the pavement.
I will thrive into an oak,

build tree houses as old as time.
For when they ask me about you,

I can tell them, we were meant
to be. One

hand placed upon my stomach,
the other guiding sleep

to my eyes. You told me to rest,
my darling, close your eyes

and fall into me. I will catch
you.

A Place of One’s Own

Anne walks on the warm pavement,
wishing for cooler weather,
glad to be out of the weeds by the tracks
where she hangs out in an old shed by day.

She steps up on the sidewalk,
checks to see if the bank’s front entry
is empty. Yes. She sighs, relieved.
This is her space, in front of wide oak doors,

if she gets here first.
She likes this part of town,
clean, patrolled, as safe
as she can expect. Sometimes

a boy she went to school with
fifteen years ago is the night guard.
He’s not ashamed to say hello
and offer her a sandwich and a bottle of water.

There’s a 24-hour station nearby
if she needs to use the restroom
or escape unwanted advances. She slides
the strap from her shoulder,

opens the satchel, and spreads a towel
on the fairly clean concrete.
She takes out a hardback copy
of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

and settles in for the evening.
She doesn’t sleep. She doesn’t dare,
but the book keeps her company,
and she always knows where her towel is.

Her knife, too. If she needs it.

Rocks * Magnets * Sunflowers

Rocks*Magnets*Sunflowers                                             Hour Five    10 word list prompt

 

He came home for the funeral; things looked much as when he had been there at Christmas.

Working overseas for a homeland security company had kept him away a lot after 911.

 

Hymns, sandwiches, hugs, and tears had made the church service seem surreal.

Family, friends and friends like family gathered and rallied. She was well loved by all.

 

They talked every Sunday; facetiming hadn’t appealed to her although they had tried it once or twice.

He couldn’t believe his dear grandmother had passed away so suddenly.

 

He sat down and thought about growing up in this house; her love and care surrounded him.

Looking for keepsakes wasn’t why he came; he had simply come to say goodbye. And thank you.

 

A ten year-old best seller, a large print hardback, lie open on the threadbare lounger.

The knitting basket had tipped over and colorful balls of yarn had spilled out onto the floor.

 

Just out the kitchen window a garden bed of sunflowers bobbed, twisted and strained following the sun.

The grand old oak stood as still as a sentry at the corner of the yard nestled by crumbling pavement.

 

The nail holding down a corner of the carpet was rough and bent; collecting extra dirt in the space.

An empty wineglass sat unattended on the back patio table; a cloth napkin had blown under the chair.

 

A recipe for Gma’s famous au gratin potatoes hung front and center on the frig; held snug by a huge “Got Beef?” magnet.

She had made that casserole for every church potluck; Tillamook cheddar cheese was her secret ingredient.

 

A stack of all the postcards and letters he had written her were buried in the bottom on her worn leather satchel.

He knew he’d find them there; along with a few smooth rocks from the Oregon coast and a tiny stuffed owl.

 

He walked around one more time; he bent down to grab her “helpers” and sat them next to the book.

There was no need to clean up or pick up. Memories cannot be boxed up.

Charcuterie

Charcuterie

 

I need space 

to knit together

the hardbacks that marinate

in my brain.

I need to 

unload this satchel of syrupy savory verbs,

Noun tannins swirl the bouquet like merlot,

Cluster of umami clauses.

I need to 

slice sheets of extra sharp perspective.

Craft characters and place them like olives on oak. 

This is a whole charcuterie.

whisper…me

whisper my name
whisper my bane
whisper my lane
whisper my heart
whisper my craze
whisper my crave
whisper my take
whisper my idol
whisper my cake

Window to Another Dimension, Sonnet ( ekphrastic)

Window to another dimension thrills my earthly soul.
Window high enough to see my destiny into space.
Elements of earthly structures covered with lacey vines.
Eyes see into the future–escapes realities view.
Newness of perspective carries pastels blue and white hue.
It’s a picture of perfection, a panoramic view.
Anticipation something can be beyond the window.
Waiting, my life is waiting for the next scene to come through.
Tell me there is laugher in the pane from heartache and shame.
Window to another dimension satisfices my soul.
Heavenly beams upon earth perhaps my celestials goal.
Built in a wall, my gaze is from outside as glory rides.
I will go around, through, and over to the other side.
Life is like a window it lets in the air and sunshine.

Hour 5: The Old House

Look at you now

with greying wood

the once vibrant paint

stripped of color

by time and chisel rain

 

The garden

now brambles

has returned to seed

as a buffet for the crows

 

I remember you,

old friend—

canary yellow

with a porch of haint blue

trimmed delicately

with lilac wisteria swaying

in the noonday breeze

 

Curtains of dust gather

and stare up at the sky

from behind shut windows

like a white-haired elder

with cloudy eyes

remembering

Annoying visit

Go away atrocious one!

Can’t you see I’m on the run

Why do you visit me at this ungodly hour

Your presence brings me annoyance and leaves the taste in my mouth sour

 

Just before i open the door

I pray the ringing bell is nothing more

Then a mistake on my behalf

So that the week that follows won’t be rough

 

But when the door opens I am left disappointed

Because it seems that I have been appointed

Your host for seven days

And only then will you go away

 

I am left to prepare endless supplies of clothes and food

When it’s holidays Your stay is never good

As this is the time for me to go away and rest

Come when I’m busy, then  your stay gives me freedom so it works out best

 

You make me moody and feeling like I need to cry

For reasons no one knows why

And you wake me in the middle of the night

And I always have to make sure that your bedding is just right

 

Now there’s nothing that can be changed

So I heave a sigh and have a room arranged

As The Red Flag Lady is here to stay with me

I know the worst is going to be days one, two and three

Hour 5 – Friendship

Hour 5 – Friendship

 

The space in front of the great Oak tree

was right for Laura and Tanya.

There they laid the blanket, resting

as they emptied their Picnic box.

 

Cheddar cheese and crackers,

two wine glasses, generously poured.

laughing and enjoying each others company

it felt like time had stood still.

 

As they packed up to leave, a sunflower appeared.

“positivity, strength and admiration” Laura said

smiling Tanya accepted the flower answering

“here’s to friendship”

 

 

Untitled #1

Life oscillates between too much space

and not enough ————–

We plant sunflowers in the front yard

then pick them for our patio (beauty can never be close enough).

An oak tree is cut down for poetry.

Nails are bitten to the quick.

And there’s pain.

And you want to jump in the water but then you’ll be all wet.

A wine glass is poured to the top with whiskey and in the morning, it’s half empty.

You want to be touched

but also left alone.