It hits me sometimes, out of the blue, that even the sky catches fire sometimes, that even these hills are not immune to change. The skip of a stone, a rippled pool; the beauty that is you. This week's submission brought to you by the yeah write poetry slam, where I learned all about nonets.
Between this stolen ship and home a promise made (a broken vow) was written in the rolling foam. Between this stolen ship and home a breach too wide to cross has grown. I toss a ring across the bow between this stolen ship and home: a promise, made a broken vow.
On this perfect day I watch you throw rock after rock into a mountain stream, Your words a constant flow, a stream of consciousness; all day I lean against this rock and listen while the trees rock the sky to sleep. Clouds stream across the edges of the day. What would I not give for … Continue reading Idyll
The stars are not the stars tonight; they burn so fleetingly—they drift, an earthly flame inside each paper shell. With each slow turn their dancing puts those distant stars to shame. We wrapped our hearts in promises and pride, in pledges inked across thin sheets of doubt: Translucent, insubstantial, finely dyed, our lanterns glowed until … Continue reading Sky lanterns
High in the mountains a lake reflects a white peak, the heart of the sky. She yearns for the summit but A river runs but one way.