—Poems and Photos by Carol Louise Moon, Placerville, CA
THE SHIMMER
A large royal-blue eye
with its moss-green aura;
a sudden dozen-of-them
floating, bobbing mid-air.
The scaly-taloned
forward stride,
jutting narrow-neck
with sharp beak.
The proud glance
to the grass—
to the hen.
(first pub. in Brevities)
A large royal-blue eye
with its moss-green aura;
a sudden dozen-of-them
floating, bobbing mid-air.
The scaly-taloned
forward stride,
jutting narrow-neck
with sharp beak.
The proud glance
to the grass—
to the hen.
(first pub. in Brevities)
THE DOVE
That’s the thing about
Democracy, you have
to listen to everybody
and that takes time.
—Louise K. Moon
This bird has time
on her wings.
She hesitates
on green grass within
the strengthening light.
Her eyes dart in life’s
rhythms. Listening for
wind she pays attention
to subtle sounds.
It’s because she has time
that she listens.
She is a figure of speech
with no speech at all,
a silent white bird.
(first pub. in Rattlesnake Review, Vol. 23)
I SAW A DRAGONFLY
red and delicate
as another dragonfly that
landed on a yellow rose
which smelled fresh
as the rose next to it.
The sun shone
just a bit brighter
than the sun had shined
the day before.
And I was one day older—
and young as ever I was.
CANARY
Canary, canary, won’t you
come stay in my garden today?
You, with your yellow, chase my blues,
redden my heart, brighten my yard;
content in my violet regard.
You, with your yellow, chase my blues.
Come stay in my garden today,
canary... Canary, won’t you?
(first pub. in Brevities, Vol. 110)
GRAY FUR
Gray and busy, he is planting;
he has found his nuts aplenty.
Digging up the neighbor’s garden
he has buried his good treasure.
Climbing up a tree-bark ladder
bushy tail so quickly follows.
Looking out, his eyes are searching
—sentry from a high limb lurking.
WHITTLING LIFE AWAY
With a small blue pocket knife
Willam whittles wood, fashions
simple dolls. His old-age life
consists of morning rations:
stale bread, coffee, a few
almonds, apples he portions
into quarters, saving two
for the old gray mare. Today
cool delta breezes flow through
the unkempt yard; willows sway.
Willam says his life’s okay.
Staring out across the lawn
he sighs, wonders where it’s gone.
(first pub. in Brevities and Song of the San Joaquin)
__________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SAPPHO DELIGHTS IN LADY SLIPPERS
—Carol Louise Moon
Yellow are the slippers
amid the sunlight.
Laced in rich brown ribbons
they puzzle me now.
Does a fairy wear these shoes?
Does she lead me past
the wide meadow?
__________________
Our thanks to Carol Louise Moon today, as she checks into the Kitchen with lovely spring poems and photos, calling out to all of us Rapunzels who are stuck in our towers…
But you are not alone! If you fire up your computer tonight, starting at 6pm, you can hear Virtual Open Mic #2: 90 minutes/30 readers! Then at 8pm, James Lee Jobe reads on Facebook. Scroll down to the blue column (under the green column at the right) for info about connecting to these and other upcoming virtual poetry events in our area—and note that more may be added at the last minute.
__________________
—Medusa
Lady Slippers
“Does a fairy wear these shoes?”
—Public Domain Photo
—Public Domain Photo
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
