one true question –
will there be signs near the end,
or will it just be
Pat
8)23/21
For Ronovan Writes Haiku where the prompt is Question & Sign. For more responses go here
Question & Sign
Category Archives: poetry
New light
a parting –
all gray swept away
by new light
Pat
8/23/21
Final Exit
celestial bodies
in a final flourish
though no longer youngish
exit with flair
Pat
8/18/21
For Tanka Tuesday an Ekphrastic Poem. To read other entries, go here
Push Back
push back from nature
scorched earth, epic floods earthquakes –
no pulling back now
Pat
8/17/21
For Ronovan Writes Haiku where the prompt words are Push & Pull
to participate or just read go here
A Good Morning!
wind in trees
the russle of leaves and
cicada songs-
a good morning
Pat R
8/17/21
Linking to Cees Flower of the Day FOTD, to participate or see other entries go here:
New Day
the old man
sandals in hand
strolls through
the middle of the meadow
wiggling his toes
as he goes
he smiles
a private smile
rediscovering
one could see
he was perched in that place
where memories were kind,
a good place to linger
on this, a new day
Pat
8/11/21
August Day
It is early morning and the splash of color in the sky – a gift of sunrise. This second august day is cooler, more breathable than in previous days. It seems that autumn has stuck it’s big toe in.
I know it’s still a bit early for this but images of autumn leaves surfing crisp cool air fill my head. As I pass an especially woodsy area of this park, there is a steady breeze.
This is enough for a pause with outstretched arms, head tilted back and eyes closed, regardless of who is watching.
cool, breezy morning
hosts lively russle of leaves –
hints of autumn
Pat
8/02/21
For dVerse Poets Pub. Stop by here.
Morning
from on high
soft coos of a dove
gracing morning
Pat
8/01/21
Grit
Ida is an old soul and the fiercest person I know. She was blessed with an abundance of that ‘no nonsense and why the hell not’, attitude.
Conversations this time had awakened deep feelings.
What must it be like going somewhere, and not know that feeling of sticking out like a sore thumb. Or, not having to endure the stares and the under- their- breaths mutterings.
Such feelings were never really shared out loud, they didn’t have to. They knew, being in the skin they were in. Ida too, had experienced this. On one occasion she was heard to say,
‘I didn’t know I was black till I came to America’. She would not elaborate.
But this too she tackled this with her attitude of “no, I do not weep at the world – I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife*.” This attitude had served her well; and serves her still.
Pat
7/20/21
*Zora Neale Hurston
Wounded
the earth sending notes –
epic floods, raging fires
this wounded planet
Pat
7/20/21
For Ronovan Writes Haiku where the prompt words are Note & Send. To participate or just read, go here
