dogtrax

Each seed’s planted in the dirt, rooted down in the faith of eternal hope, the possibility of something where there was nothing

For #mastoprompt

Our gathering together never gets better: words dozing in morning song

Reverse haiku #mastoprompt #smallpoems #ds106

Where one violin sings, the second begins, and then both belong to an unfolding song of love

for #mastoprompt

Loud voices that seem relentless, fade in time, the twisting tail of anger once deemed endless

for #mastoprompt

It's in the quiet leaning of trees along the babble songs of a brook near where the hummingbird flies

It's between the soft petals of a flower in bloom the solitude of a reading room the soft light of a waning moon

It's elusive and everpresent; this belief in peace

for #mastoprompt

Soaked grass between toes - where night's rain went, I don't know - Sun, light; the breeze, blows

for Algot

Landscape: A Duplex Poem

We rarely know where this trodden trail ends The land’s shape alters around each bend

This landscape changes beyond every bend Winter’s fury moved rivers, shifted stones

Winter’s anger lifted rivers, grooved stones The map on hand arrives folded like metaphor

The map of the land unfolds like metaphor We read it as a story, and little more

We’ll write it as story, and maybe something more Quiet in the woods, eyes forward into dark

In the quiet woods, eyes lean towards the dark Even an explorer knows to expect the unexpected

Every explorer reflects the mirror of the unexpected I suspect we may never know how this trail ends

Inspired by Jericho Brown

Time’s unspoken dance is but mirage

our past, a shadow of reluctant mirror, reflected

by memory, thumbing along the skin of a reluctant drum

to a beat of flawed rhythm, the melody of one

(Submitted for a Metaphor Dice competition .. it didn't win)

For all the words I’ve yet to use - the phantom ink of forgotten blues - I strum the chords to hear the news, and think on paths

For Mastoprompt

Fibonacci Poem

Writing/ Poems/ About hope/ Words become us/ Where reason remains quiet, until/ The poet picks up pen or ink quill/ And centers the world around an idea and brings it close and still

For DS106 Fibonacci Sequence: 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13 …