Arabesques

—Photo by Chris Moon

YOUR NEW OCEAN

—Carol Louise Moon, Sacramento

I giggled when I saw your ocean,
all flat and silly.
Ship-out-on-the-water looks like
a cigarette lighter on a table top glass.

This sand beneath my feet
is warm and weird;
fine and light golden, almost white.

My arms grasp nothing;
not a rock to lean on,
not a tree to walk over to, to pick pine needles
from among the mud and pebbles.

"Mary Mack, Mack, Mack with buttons
down her curvy back, back, back"
button-sized seashells line up along the sand
where the shallow wave has come and gone.

You were raised in California
then moved to Florida.
From Pacific to Atlantic you have come and gone.
Your new ocean is silly.

(first pub. in Convergence)

______________________

IN THE PASS OF THE OAKS

—Carol Louise Moon

The strength of a lone oak,
her outstretch
lures me.

The whisper of her simple seed,
her unchanging season,
her forbearance
bids me.

Her stillness is temperance
sheltering colonies of
ants within her.

(first pub. in Brevities)

—Photo by Chris Moon

MAMA'S LOOKING GLASS

—Olga Blu Browne, Sacramento

Looking glass, looking glass. Past or
present, which will it be.

Ghosts of my past, teller of the future,
who is it I see?

Is that mama or me? Gray hair and
wrinkles.

Is it yesterday or my today? Looking
glass, looking glass, look away.

______________________

THIS WAS/IS ME
 —Michael Cluff, Corona, CA
 

A senryu
wants to be
a sonnet
or at least
a cleaner limerick.

An abstract of arabesques
and pirouettes, azure
and pink-purple and yellow-blacks
on a wall next to the Louvre.

A wearer of pin-stripes
that are wide enough
to point out
that I am nearly
a force to be controlled
but not by bars.

Contrasting socks
done total and intentionally
with forethought
benign
or not.

No belts in cars
or summer shorts

A peacock
that knows
when to fold
its...

A being-spirit
encumbered
no  staples or...

 Half and Half

—Photo by Chris Moon

THIS IS ME TOO
—Michael Cluff

Being sure my obligations
are met without eating
beforehand, thinking it is good
until the eyes
create novas and holes
penned by worms
just under the un-opening
skin about
above the iris.

It is a short burst
and then the meat
in my brain yodels
"oatmeal or kale
at the very least
even a packet of yeast."

Unflinched sand
boiled and stretched—
yes, a mirror
and two-year-old photos
on an iPad
are cruel beasts.

____________________

THIS IS ME THREE
—Michael Cluff

Accommodating vomiting
when another is sick
in the newly cleaned bathroom
and the other one is just a bit too dirty
for public view.

Taking the whole
three-piece suit
with every appropriate accoutrement
back off
and going to work
in tee shirt
and slightly depressed jeans
when the dimple in the tie is
not just so
or the knot is not snug
against the collar.

Refusing to return
unsatisfactory meals
or air filters
since they are not
all that vital.

Avoiding debates
with other
especially those entrenched
who never will admit
they are in grievous
error and I am in the right
left...

I like looking at the stream flow pure
while
the moon dances in its waves.

_____________________

Today's LittleNip:

HALLMARK

—Carol Louise Moon

around the bay
a string of pearls
if molecules count
and whiteness, too

sea book words
with millions waiting
on someone’s birthday

____________________

—Medusa, with thanks to today's contributors, including Carol Louise Moon and her brother, Chris Moon. To see more of the work the Moons have done together, go to www.ckmphotography.com

Marshland
—Photo by Chris Moon