Oct 14, 2009

The First Rain 10-13-09

The first rain has arrived
Trees stretch their branches and
Flowers their petals
Bathing in the cold crisp water
Puddles reflect the sun-shining like
Wiggling glass and rivers
Brighter than the muted sun
Shielded by fast moving clouds
Their shapes-peaks of freshly whipped cream
Windshield wipers dance like the outstretched arms
Of ballerinas moving gracefully, executing perfectly
The dance that accompanies
The symphony of Spartacus
That plays on my car stereo.

Aspens Upright

Aspens upright in endless rows
Facing forward in paused march
Forming a pattern in militaristic style
Wind blows their million leaves
They curtain the sky above
Like green’s spectrum on scales
Of a million fish illuminated
Sounds like whispers or sweet beckoning song
Or blood flowing through the veins in my ears
Magnified
This sound draws peace and silence
Washes over me and I am still
Still as the trees’ trunks, swaying
Ever so slightly at the wind’s soft touch

New Eyes

The sky is shades of grey today
Tiny-thin girls walk by with heavy laden footsteps
I see boots over jeans and the wrinkled scarves
That have been pulled from backs of drawers
My eyes see familiar trees and building
Through a new lens, a softer view
This change in the weather brings a
Change in my head, my mind is searching for
Something new and I am finding it in
Everything I see.
Is it the sky that makes me smile as I walk
Is it the cool air pushing into my lungs
Is it the thought of wrapping up in warm
Blankets and scarves and long sleeves
Maybe it is the thought that a new year is approaching
Maybe it is the sun that I know hides behind
The clouds and whispers softly in my ears
Translated by the wind in the trees.

Oct 6, 2009

Curves

She bends his words to accommodate her taste
Bends phrases to move and flow with ease
Erases the memories she dares not keep
And finds nothing left but sweet and sour pieces

Bends her mind to fit the mold
Bends her heart to keep it safe
She feels the pain of emptiness and weeps
Tears heavy loaded with fine white powder and blood

Empty sorrow and empty eyes
She searches for a place to hide her hate
She wants to erase herself so
She bends her body to become invisible

And in the mold she fits so well
Perfectly angled and empty inside
Her face a canvas for it to paint
And with that she thinks she may survive

Her fears devour the hope she has
And once again she finds a way
To numb and run and fight and win
The battle with her mind- a loss

Broken down, she kneels
Sick and twisting with the pain
Stabbing, rushing, burns and aches
Crawls underneath her bed and hides
From the beam of sunlight entering through the blinds.