—Artwork by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
—Poetry by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal, West Covina, CA
ON A CLEAR DAY
On a clear day
I can see the mountains
where they have always been.
Flecks of silver
snow, a gold sun appears
in the distance smiling.
Coming around
the mountains, someone comes
bearing glistening fruit.
Grass and leaves die
in winter and autumn
buried in the damp fields.
I feel at peace
in my best of moods with
just looking at mountains.
On a clear day
I can see the mountains
where they have always been.
Flecks of silver
snow, a gold sun appears
in the distance smiling.
Coming around
the mountains, someone comes
bearing glistening fruit.
Grass and leaves die
in winter and autumn
buried in the damp fields.
I feel at peace
in my best of moods with
just looking at mountains.
DREAMING IN A DREAM
Sleeping
with my arms
in an embrace
under my sheets,
giving insomnia
a surprising
defeat,
dreaming
throughout
the night, while
the moon snores
along with me.
I was immersed
in a dream
where I was
also dreaming.
—Public Domain Photo
UNDER WATER
It’s not raining.
I am under water.
The sea swallows me
into a whole other world.
I go down deep and
get tangled in seaweed
and I am shipwrecked
like a human boat.
—Public Domain Photo
LONE SHADOW
The lone shadow
present in the yard
stretched to the door
in a single line
and disappeared
on the door frame.
Evening came fit
for a picture. It
was a quiet
night. A still shadow
by the roses
frozen in time.
The lone shadow
present in the yard
stretched to the door
in a single line
and disappeared
on the door frame.
Evening came fit
for a picture. It
was a quiet
night. A still shadow
by the roses
frozen in time.
—Public Domain Photo
ON CEMETERY GATES
The withering plants
and flowers die on
cemetery graves.
Trees and branches
provide shade and
there is mud on the
cast-bronze plaques.
You can only make
out partial names.
There are ducks in
the lake and on the
lawn. It is an ordinary
day for the dead who
remain a part of our lives.
—Artwork by Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
YOUR FOOTSTEPS
I walk in silence
slowly
toward
the muted forest.
In a shadow
my steps grow.
I walk with
naked feet.
If you want to join,
you are welcome.
The walk is good.
The road is long.
Don’t hurry
and don’t fret.
I will wait for you.
My heart would love to hear
your footsteps.
______________________
I walk in silence
slowly
toward
the muted forest.
In a shadow
my steps grow.
I walk with
naked feet.
If you want to join,
you are welcome.
The walk is good.
The road is long.
Don’t hurry
and don’t fret.
I will wait for you.
My heart would love to hear
your footsteps.
______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
SWEET RIVER
—Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Take a dip in the sweet river
where tiny fish live and swim,
in blue waters surrounded by
shrubbery and tall trees, where
beautiful birdsong fills the air.
If this does not make you smile,
I suppose you cannot swim.
______________________
Many thanks to Luis Berriozabal for his poetry this Easter morning, a day of promise for new beginnings and many more clear days ahead!
Check out the Poetry Super Highway, the online publication and resource for poets and writers, at poetrysuperhighway.com/psh/ (Facebook info: www.facebook.com/groups/poetrysuperhighway/) for poetry collections, writing prompts (including a Prompt-a-Day in April), the 20th Annual Great Poetry Exchange, submissions, blogtalkradio, and other good stuff. Today, see poetry on there from our Canadian SnakePal, Ryan Quinn Flanagan!
____________________
—Medusa
SWEET RIVER
—Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal
Take a dip in the sweet river
where tiny fish live and swim,
in blue waters surrounded by
shrubbery and tall trees, where
beautiful birdsong fills the air.
If this does not make you smile,
I suppose you cannot swim.
______________________
Many thanks to Luis Berriozabal for his poetry this Easter morning, a day of promise for new beginnings and many more clear days ahead!
Check out the Poetry Super Highway, the online publication and resource for poets and writers, at poetrysuperhighway.com/psh/ (Facebook info: www.facebook.com/groups/poetrysuperhighway/) for poetry collections, writing prompts (including a Prompt-a-Day in April), the 20th Annual Great Poetry Exchange, submissions, blogtalkradio, and other good stuff. Today, see poetry on there from our Canadian SnakePal, Ryan Quinn Flanagan!
____________________
—Medusa
Clear Days Ahead... !
—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.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world, including
that which was previously-published.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
