dogtrax

I use shreds for mulch ...

from 'Ideas Trapped by Words' by Terry Elliott https://impedagogy.com/wp/blog/2024/02/12/ideas-trapped-by-words-snarling/

I wish more of my words could become compost -

for when I'm fed up with nothing to say but still, in ink and idea, saying it -

Just imagine the weeds on the lawn, droopy at dawn but strengthening by day, as if discarded verse

took something worse, and transformed it into something unexpectedly beautiful

Oft-forgotten god, Eurus, the bringer of rain, lets loose once again

for DailyHaiku (East Wind)

Deception, that's all this is, the foreshadowing of Spring, unfolding

for Algot

Another bruised pear - another tender moment - another speckled moon -

another fruit whose flesh defies its flaws as we sink our teeth in and savor the taste of something sweet

for MastoPrompt

The elder tree sleeps as the writer rests, stories rooted in the dirt

The horizontal line bends, then breaks the distance between gaps in imagination

Time, a broken compass, we keep stashed in our pocket

for MastoPrompt

we bring a part of where we are from to every place we go

— from Meteor Shower by Clint Smith https://harborsofheaven.wordpress.com/2017/02/01/meteor-shower-by-clint-smith/

It's not just skin - it's dust, atomic debris, a journey across the universe

You and I share a moment, but it's more than that, it's a common ancestry of twilight

echoes of star light and reverberations, we shimmer in our connectedness

and then find ourselves again even as we fall back to Earth

midday pollen on our tongues each syllable flecked with sunbeams

— from Let There Be by Manny Loley https://poets.org/poem/let-there-be?mc_cid=019749b1ed&mc_eid=76f6a82f66

licking lips, then, to taste this light, you hold me, then, and forever, I kiss your name, then wander into night

bird music in the tree branches

a little hint in a song of Spring

the wind chimes too all their constant worry with wind

from Invisible Work by Kwoya Fagin Maples https://poets.org/poem/invisible-work

It's three am and I am ringing, singing that same song again in my head, the one whose words don't seem to leave, but act like wind, and sleep, a slight pause, some relief