Medusa Cactus
—Photo Courtesy of Katy Brown, Davis
STARLIGHT
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones, Tehama
A full moon
dominates
the midnight sky
beaded with stars
each individual
shimmering light
snatching back
the darkness
They cluster
delectable forms
streak and cartwheel
through endless indigo
pile in a golden tangle
beyond the horizon
______________________
A full moon
dominates
the midnight sky
beaded with stars
each individual
shimmering light
snatching back
the darkness
They cluster
delectable forms
streak and cartwheel
through endless indigo
pile in a golden tangle
beyond the horizon
______________________
SUMMER WOODS
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones
In the summer dark
a candle flickers,
permanent as a firefly
flitting through the woods,
beckons us to penetrate deeper.
In needle-slivers of moon’s lesser light
branches hang like strapping,
weave hemlock and cedar
over the mucky bog
of a draining pond.
Our feet stumble
over fallen limbs, upthrust rocks,
hillocks of moss.
Our eyes strain
to follow the faltering light.
In the summer dark
a candle flickers,
permanent as a firefly
flitting through the woods,
beckons us to penetrate deeper.
In needle-slivers of moon’s lesser light
branches hang like strapping,
weave hemlock and cedar
over the mucky bog
of a draining pond.
Our feet stumble
over fallen limbs, upthrust rocks,
hillocks of moss.
Our eyes strain
to follow the faltering light.
____________________
WHIRLWIND
—Patricia Wellingham-Jones
Across the whole leaf-strewn
lawn not a whisper
of air moves
except
in one small circle
near the orange tree
Sycamore leaves rustle
spiral
upward in the mini-
cyclone by the fence
The black cat
slits her yellow
eyes
ready to pounce
She creeps
toward the whirlwind
then retreats, as the wind
slips
sideways through
an unseen door,
disappears.
Across the whole leaf-strewn
lawn not a whisper
of air moves
except
in one small circle
near the orange tree
Sycamore leaves rustle
spiral
upward in the mini-
cyclone by the fence
The black cat
slits her yellow
eyes
ready to pounce
She creeps
toward the whirlwind
then retreats, as the wind
slips
sideways through
an unseen door,
disappears.
Was that a cat I saw?
OPEN DOOR, I
—Claire J. Baker
Summer miracle
a wild bird hops
into my apartment
pecks grit
from hallway rug
slips into bathroom
doesn't flush toilet
or turn on tub water
dances into kitchen
where when I peek
sure to find it
washing dishes
preparing lunch
only the memory
the compliment
remains.
_____________________
THE SMILE
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole
—Claire J. Baker, Pinole
I've a baby-sized doll
with a fixed expression.
But her look changes
to match my mood.
Today she was "smiling"
and she doesn't have
a smile.
_____________________
I AM GOING TO WRITE A POEM
—After I Take a Nap
—Caschwa, Sacramento
—After I Take a Nap
—Caschwa, Sacramento
June this year was a bit
Overloaded
For me:
Old friend’s birthday
D-Day
Close relative’s anniversary
Flag Day
Pay loss from furlough day (14)
Son graduated college (15)
Father’s Day (16)
Summoned for jury duty (24)
Mother died (25)
Anniversary of day I went into a coma (26)
Learned that brother had cancer
(This line intentionally left blank)
End of fiscal year
Add to that the daily screaming headlines,
Inflationary demands on recessionary funds,
Countless distractions and their sweet detours,
And those nagging reminders that old tasks remain undone
I wouldn’t be too unhappy
If next year’s calendar
Skipped June altogether…
_____________________
INVITATION
—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento
(For V.)
You will
run through summer shadows
with me, yes?
An orchard: its rows of wood
stand against the winds of apathy.
Opinion branches:
primary,
secondary
tertiary.
Arms full of supply,
leaves whose shade happens daily.
We’ll run together,
never tripping on shadow,
never going our separate ways.
____________________
Today's LittleNip:
You will
run through summer shadows
with me, yes?
An orchard: its rows of wood
stand against the winds of apathy.
Opinion branches:
primary,
secondary
tertiary.
Arms full of supply,
leaves whose shade happens daily.
We’ll run together,
never tripping on shadow,
never going our separate ways.
____________________
Today's LittleNip:
SHADOW
—Carol Louise Moon
Some who walk this alley say
silence closes in, sometimes.
So, speak to me through shadow—
street light hope of you. As I
see you strolling past my house,
shadows caress the Honey-
Suckled fence at seven bells.
____________________
Some who walk this alley say
silence closes in, sometimes.
So, speak to me through shadow—
street light hope of you. As I
see you strolling past my house,
shadows caress the Honey-
Suckled fence at seven bells.
____________________
—Medusa
—Photo by Kathy Kieth, Diamond Springs
(Safeway, Sacramento;
Poetry in Safeway—Who'd'a thought...?)