Last Day at La Muse, Labastide Esparbairenque, July 2019

Le Montagne Noire, Languedoc July 2019

 

Stone walls march 

up the mountain side

beside cliffs of the same 

granite. Stone chipped 

and stacked by hands long gone.

Walking the gravel road 

I can almost see them, those farmers

hands calloused and bleeding, 

carrying tons of rock 

to surround their fields.

Here in the mountains,

under the deep dome of sky, 

time drips slow honey.

Chartreuse lichen and succulents 

with flowers blue and yellow

cling to surfaces, not caring 

if nature or human-made.

Bees rise up buzzing, 

hours hang sweet in the air,

apricots waiting to be picked. 

 

 

National Poetry Month: April 7, 2015

NaPoWriMo Prompt: So today, I challenge you to write about money! It could be about not having enough, having too much (a nice kind of problem to have), the smell, or feel, or sensory aspects of money. It could also just be a poem about how we decide what has value or worth.

Day 7

Money

At home she sees kids on the street everyday,

but here in Paris, with the Eiffel Tower

shining over her shoulder,

she can’t watch them sitting, hands outstretched.

She asks for a euro, thinking perhaps, it equals a quarter.

I don’t tell her it’s more than a dollar.

 “Tonight is too cold for someone to sleep hungry,” she says,

and I am filled with the light of her

as she bends, dark hair swooping over her face,

dropping the coin into his waiting palm.

National Poetry Month: April 5, 2015

Today's NaPoWriMo Prompt: Find an Emily Dickinson poem - preferably one you've never previously read  - and take out all the dashes and line breaks. Make it just one big block of prose. Now, rebreak the lines. Add words where you want. Take out some words. Make your own poem out of it!

Gulp! Who am I to tamper with the great Emily's words? I didn't follow the directions completely...

Day 5: 

Before I got my eye put out – (336)

by Emily Dickinson

Before I got my eye put out –

I liked as well to see

As other creatures, that have eyes –

And know no other way –

But were it told to me, Today,

That I might have the Sky

For mine, I tell you that my Heart

Would split, for size of me –

The Meadows – mine –

The Mountains – mine –

All Forests – Stintless stars –

As much of noon, as I could take –

Between my finite eyes –

The Motions of the Dipping Birds –

The Morning’s Amber Road –

For mine – to look at when I liked,

The news would strike me dead –

So safer – guess – with just my soul

Upon the window pane

Where other creatures put their eyes –

Incautious – of the Sun –

Dear Emily #33

the sun

comes up

fueling morning’s

amber road

it is mine

to look at when

I like

it is mine

to share

with dipping birds

or other

creatures
mountains 
meadows
forests
are mine

the sky
of stintless stars

has split
my heart in two

National Poetry Month: April 4, 2015

Today's Prompt from NaPoWriMo: So today, I challenge you to write a "loveless" love poem...and if you're not in the mood for love? Well, the flip-side of the love poem - the break-up poem...If that's more your speed at present, try writing one of those, but again, avoid thunder, rain, and lines beginning with a plaintive "why"? Try to write a poem that expresses the feeling of love or lovelorn-ness without the traditional trappings you associate with the subject matter.

Day 4:

Goodbye

I bent to pick up the socks,

black skins dropped where he had sat.

Anger burrowed into me unexpected, and I knew.

Here was nothing left to hold or caress.

My hands like strangers dropped

those limp scraps right back onto the floor.