In my dark garden
wind chimes clang faintly, I breathe
the smell of the sea.
Steamy nights
wind chimes clang faintly, I breathe
the smell of the sea.
Steamy nights
on this tree-thick hill;
my grey cat
sits silent
my grey cat
sits silent
on the top step, keeping guard
while we toss in heat.
Like my cats
Like my cats
the plants are very still
this hot morning.
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 –
on the rosebush.
Quiet –
the rain pauses
waiting.
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.
Splendid blending of past Januarys!
ReplyDeleteDownpour. At last a bud
ReplyDeleteon the rosebush
How one loves to experience early spring and to skip the cold months!
Hank
You've written a scene the reader can enter. The hush and and rush and the rosebush.
ReplyDeleteit 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