Not quite autumn

i will pretend to be like autumn
falling gently to ground, but you know this:
unshaded, wild chrystanthemums
bloom in our arms like

a reluctant leaf clinging to bough,
sticky guava jam on crusty bread,
sweet as rice cakes, steamed in banana leaves

i will pretend to be like autumn
pink-eyed in the pumpkin patch, trying hard
not to remember the love notes

your scribbled on my neck and
back in slow circles, dripping ink,
carving memories of heated afternoons

i will pretend to be like autumn
ripe apple cider, plump as blackberries
until my journal is full of leaves, drenched in the rain,    

remembering your eyes
blazing like summer sun,
your skin, tangy as sliced yellow-green mangoes

i will pretend to be like autumn
mellowed orange, nibbling the edge of us slowly,
but always a foot wedged on closing door  

we're not finished, not yet

Posted for:   D'verse Poets Pub:   Autumn chill is in the air - Thanks for the prompt Mary ~








Photo credit:  Photo by Oleg Kosirev

this autumn day

autumn leaves are still curled
in breasts of maple trees, 
dewy wet from yesterday’s downpour

black crows circle outside patio, 
eyes on wayward crumbs from grill, 
hovering our conversation:     
accident, coma   

we sit like windmills, unmoving,  
as the sun bristles our skin, 
fragile glass on    

crumpled napkins, 
we swallow down our throats: 
mother's fears   


picture credit:   Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:   Symbolism

and Flash Fiction Friday - Tell a story in 55 words - For the G-man.

We received the sad news this morning that our colleague's daughter died after being in coma due to a car accident.  She was a young woman,full of promise.  How fragile life is ~   

Wishing you happy day and blessed weekend.    

To stay

It is I

knocking at your door,

not as a beggar nor

with a question

but someone who has written

the saddest song, 

the loneliest poem 

diminished,
a fraction of lemon leaf, 
bereft of scent and colour 

fear has stilled my fingers 

wanting to pull you under the water tide,   

melting in the roughness, 

arching feet in foamy sands 

i have come

as one who now cries at every moon rise,

wretched with summer's brevity,  
weary of long roads, 

my hands searches

for your light and steady gait,

even your shadows comfort me

I am knocking

not to leave you again

but to stay

yes, to stay 

Inspired by Pablo Neruda's The Question  -  When I don't know what to write, I turn to reading Neruda's poems.  A light piece for this long weekend ~  Back to work on Tuesday~  

Posted for OpenLinkNight of Real Toads  - Monday
and D'verse Poets Pub - Tuesday   

A model daughter

he smelled her even from afar, 
perfect blend of sweetness and
unbloomed rebellion in her blood,  
a model daughter, pale and meek

until he danced with her:  bubbling wine 
on glass, belly laughter deep as sea,
crumbling his polite facade until
all he could think of was just her scent

rich spice,  unlike the bland lineage of 
her wealthy family, who nosed down on his
humble roots, brown as mother earth 
but his words were gifted, pulsing her chest   

until wrists trembled to be freed
from family's expecatations and promises,
penning a letter, she left her home on the day
of his birthday, riding a plane out of town

she bore the costs of her elopement:
lost inheritance, empty mailboxes,
rough hands from daily chores and grind,  
silencing wild streak:   an outcast until

the birth of her daughter, bleeding 
and near death, she calmly accepted her fate as 
a wayward daughter, now a frail slip of a woman,
unlike her mother, strong as a rock, holding her hands 

forgiving and welcoming her back into the fold: 

a model daughter, pale and meek 

                                           

Posted for:  D'verse Poets Pub:   Poetics: The art of rebellion

I thought a real life story would be a good example for this prompt hosted by Stu McPherson.  Thanks for the visit ~  

Picture credit:   here  

Of this morning sun and peaches

the sea tide followed you this morning, 
clinging to your hair, dripping of corn and sun 
bursting at the seams with rounded seeds 

the shell case broke open, replete with seeds, 
and for the first time, my tongue tasted morning, 
naked, lush pulp, succulent fruit under bittersweet sun 

nothing prepared me for you, flaming the sun 
sky with words drizzling like apple knotted seeds, 
staining my room forever silky bold, unlike any mornings 

this morning, sun dawned, tinged red of pomegranate seeds


~0~0~0~



She wasn’t petite  nor blushing peach lady.    
Tall with broad arms, sturdy legs, like her Dad
except for soft brown eyes.
Fiercely ambitious, she tackled her career,
like a charging bull.   

But, when he finally proposed after 7 years,
She melted, purring like kitten.                    
Nowadays,  her smile eclipses 
diamond-studded ring which she proudly wears.   

First post:    Posted for D'verse Poets Pub:  Tritina

Second post:   Flash Fiction Friday - A post in 55 words, for the G-man.   An office mate recently got engaged.

Thanks for the visit.



picture credit:   here