Category: Nature

My Words Might Fail

One day, when the moon is in the sky, I will reach out to touch it. I might hope for an embrace that it cannot reciprocate. I might stumble in its light. I might weep. I might struggle to move that insurmountable rock. I might try to replace it with other rock. I might lean against craggy walls, learning what every cliff face looks like from the bottom. I might hurt.

One day, when the sun is in the sky, I will tap my fingers on the dining table. The wood might maintain my prints. It might not. I might stare longingly out the window. My gaze might race to meet the horizon faster than my legs could ever run. I might lie down on the floor. I might rest. I might face my greatest fears. I’m not sure I yet know what those are.

One day, when the moon is in the sky, I might not be there to see it.

featured photo by Dids via Pexels

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Smoke and Soot

a free verse poem

Smoke and soot.

A candle left to burn for too long.

A campfire just waiting to become cold.

Unused logs.

Waiting for another winter.

Beige and brown and chopped.

A recently demolished treehouse,

now a childhood memory.

Photo by Erik Mclean via Pexels

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Bonding Time

a free verse poem

We pluck some of the seedling plants to make room for the others, and I tell you my hair has gotten too long.

You disagree.

You tell me that the book without words made you cry, and I tell you, “Me, too,” but without saying anything aloud.

Your hand rests on my thigh just above my knee as I drive. Your touch reminds me of sunshine.

I think I can smell the pulse under your skin. You show me how it’s right beneath the surface.

I make you promise to dance with me in the kitchen.

So many disparate truths build a life and a happy one at that.

I don’t know where to go from here.

You say, “Forward, of course.”

Photo by Dua Chuot via Pexels

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If I Were

the blades of grass

A Free Verse Poem

If I were

the wind whipping through your hair

on late night drives with the windows down

after the rain just stopped,

leaving the road shiny and slick with wetness

and the smell of damp asphalt still permeating the air,

would you then believe

Continue reading “If I Were”

By the River

The downpour must be waiting for something.

A Free Verse Poem

All the spent brush littering the hillside to the right,

mostly brown to the left as well,

railroad tracks not far behind, hidden by the slopes.

“I swear it’s beautiful in the spring.”

Continue reading “By the River”