The View From My Back Door

Snow
Photo by Jacqueline Casey

The glow of silver trees against blue sky
against a deeper royal blue ally
as snow now blankets each and every limb
with loving care, their mother covers them.

The trees so loved by nature’s wintry blast
it seems some artist covers to contrast.
Her richest blue encircles icy trim
with loving care, their mother covers them!

To some, a dark and deadly, frozen fear;
to others, it’s a message that they hear:
Such honor sent to each not as some whim.
With loving care, their mother covers them.

The trees bejeweled still with breathless hue;
their branches blaze against an endless blue.
They bow in adoration for her hymn;
with loving care, their mother covers them.

Form: Kyrielle: AA;BB;CC;bB;DD;bB;EE;bB
(from my kitchen door in Murphy, NC)

The Morning After

Rain

 

“The Morning After”

Push open all the doors to house at five.
Breathe deep_ the morning air; keep lungs alive.

A birthday celebration leaves its claim;
confetti on the sofa_in the drain.

We held the starry night so drunk with love
but now, in morning light, squint eyes above.

The dying ash in fireplace now complains:
“The day is new but we are not the same.”

I listen to some early, startled birds
that shout outside my window with their words.

The clouds roll in; leave both our souls to blame
as we, the night before, try to remain

stalemate with the smoke, Chanel No. 5
the lingering scent of arriving rain.

Kyrielle rhyme pattern: aa,bb,cc, bb,dd,bb,ab

Martin’s Dream

“Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin’s Dream

I fall into the blackest hole in space
my soul now travels through the darkest scene;
a foreign place where there’s no time or grace.
I move through tunnels of relentless scream.

A message from my minister of flight:
“From swirling depths you’re not allowed escape.
And you will fall forever out of sight.
It’s written here for relevance of hate:

You broke the rules! Your punishment will end
when darkness turns to morning’s crashing fuss;
when love’s the rule regardless of the win
and Rosa sits beside you on the bus.”

The clatter of my clock begins to sing
as Monday calls all sinners to its ring.