I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world, to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')

These poems are works in progress and may be updated without notice. Nevertheless copyright applies to all writings here and all photos (which are either my own or used with permission). Thank you for your comments. I read and appreciate them all, and reply here to specific points that seem to need it — or as I have the leisure. Otherwise I reciprocate by reading and commenting on your blog posts as much as possible.

3 December 2017

January Moments

In my dark garden
wind chimes clang faintly, I breathe
the smell of the sea.


Steamy nights
on this tree-thick hill;
my grey cat 

sits silent 
on the top step, keeping guard
while we toss in heat.

Like my cats
the plants are very still
this hot morning.

The heat revs up
as the morning brightens.
What time today
will humid rains kick in?
Summer at full throttle.


Downpour.
At last a bud
on the rosebush.

Quiet –

the rain pauses
waiting.


Trying to come up with a poem for the new year, and uninspired, I looked through several years of micropoetry written in January, selected one from each year (with a bit of tweaking to some, on seeing them anew) and found that they could be read as a sequence. 

4 comments:

  1. Splendid blending of past Januarys!

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  2. Downpour. At last a bud
    on the rosebush

    How one loves to experience early spring and to skip the cold months!

    Hank

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  3. You've written a scene the reader can enter. The hush and and rush and the rosebush.

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  4. it was a surprise to see "summer at full throttle" in a January poem but then it's summer for half the world. I feel the steamy hot heat here.

    ReplyDelete