NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 30 for reals

It’s 45F and misting and foggy. Since I couldn’t sit out and paint, I went for a little spin with my coffee and camera. So this:

The world’s a-song
the morning close
as cloud to hill
the green unable
to contain

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day 30 for reals

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Thirty

There may be one more. Or not. This was started in the wee-small hours. I appreciate all the visitors and all the poems that were shared by the April poets!

The Last before May

Why, April,
are you so fickle?
holding back words
pelting down rain
and even snow
You’ve teased and
tossed your head
and now trees are
clouds, rolling waves
upon the hills
now green again.
But you, you dance
and sing
and wave
and go again.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Thirty

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Nine

Can’t believe it’s almost over, since it feels like I’m about to fly

Arms outstretched,
as wide as I
horizon line
air and ground
with the sun
so warm in my eyes
my head glows
while my feet
live in shadow
air and ground
Fingers spread
a small jump
let go of
gravity.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Nine

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Eight

a day arrives when
ordinary and mundane
aren’t on the agenda
I put out my hand to you
and we’re strong
for each other.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Eight

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Seven

Now that night has come
the world takes a breath
and sits back
an old couple together
trees stand black
gated sentries
by the occasional window.
The mounded woods are silent
but at the corners
in the wet hollows
peepers screamed again
their romancing undaunted
by a sudden april chill.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Seven

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Six

This still needs some tumbling but here it goes for now:

April’s heavy clouds,
oppose fluorescent maples
bright yellow willows
with sun or no
the trees
above rich greens
first sparks
no heat yet
a welcome light

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Six

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Five

She came, needing to buy
a replacement for something
broken — accidentally,
unfortunately, sadly —
and then she began to weep,
her husband, not dead six days
would have known how to fix it
how to do all those things
and she did not,
and so she stood with me
weeping, both of us
and a wordless space
holding on to each other
no heroes,
trying again to breathe.

I told a minister a little about this chance encounter and said something like – what can anyone say? He said – I can tell you as a minister there is nothing you can say in times like that. It was an interesting day – one of those days when you wonder what the world is trying to tell you, and if that’s the case, why can’t it speak a little plainer.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Five