Ice

There is something clean
about ice; frosty shaved bits
clinging to windows; the way
clean clear sheets of ice
break into shards when I hit
the water trough with my boot
heel or a hammer.
Puddles ripple paper thin
opaque crackling underfoot.
Steam rises smokey
vapor where the sun reaches
over trees to kiss black roof tiles.
It ventures inside
to our bedroom where icy
crisp sheets send chills up my bare
body.  You melt me.

Prompts: Margo has given two prompts on writing about winter.  She asks us to think or look at an image of winter and use that as a springboard.  I pictured morning chores in winter on our small ranch.  I used the choka form, given as a prompt at Poetic Bloomings.  The form is not rhymed and uses a repeating syllable count of 5-7-7-5-7-7-5.  I am also going to link this poem to dVerse’s Poetry Pub.

Playing with Hadron and Elfje

Walt and Hannah both offered variations on the hadron form prompt from a few weeks ago.  I played a bit with both of their forms.

Woven hammock,
knotted natural rope,
double wide
swaying.  Weighing
time
for rest.

Sooty
velvet muzzle
eagerly reaches out
to me — cookie
or kiss.

Thick
strong hands.
They’re sore.  Years
building me ranch
gifts.

Greenish-brown
composting manure;
the dogs snack
their breath stinks: puppy
pesto.

 

The Swimmer

A wayward glance
can settle the race.
That — or a stroke that slips
sideways.
Pull hard and push
the water into ripples
behind you.
Channel energy
like a springtime
snow-melt swollen
river; it’s water
falling
in a rough and robust
frenzy.
Attack the turns, curl
into a ball and flip
like a fish.
Become a strange blend
of porpoise and eel.
Revel in the sublime strength
of your life.

Prompts: Wordle 67 and Adele Kenney’s challenge to write about a sport.

People Change

When we were kids
we cantered imaginary horses
on the playground,
explored abandoned lemon groves
and newly framed houses.

When we were teens
we jumped over logs on borrowed horses.
We threw ourselves,
cold and shaking
from diving through the waves,
on sandy towels
and tanned our salty skin.

When I was older,
I scrubbed the floors,
bathed the baby,
and waited for her visit.
She never came.

Years later we met;
husbands and children in tow.
We circled each other like cats;
–her claws were out —
she smiled with her lips
while she cut me with her tongue.

Prompts: Poetic Bloomings #65 “Betrayed” and Adele Kenny’s prompt on friendship.

Summer Tease

Erotic melancholy golden dream
Rosy laughter lifting cover
Grasses spray molten seed heads
Pale pollen powders fly
fling dust and swing
Feel the stray breeze
blowing bees
dancing
tease

Prompts: Wordle 66 in the form of a nonet (nine line poem, countdown of syllables in each line from nine to one).

The Leap

We were living
on a quiet, leafy street
across from a green grass gazeboed park.
There were pool parties and Bunko,
a backyard tree
with tawny blushed crispy sweet apples.

On a wet November day
we came upon an empty mountain meadow;
— for sale —
Debt doubt questioned the wisdom
of building our dream.
Surely it was nonsense
to believe we had the strength and ability
to raise a barn
and live within the seasons’
harsh discomfort.

Fear knotted in my stomach
while the dream beat
its wings
and flew
us up the mountain.

Prompts: Trifecta/Triextra on writing about someone taking a giant leap and Poets United Vice Versa words for the week (doubt/believe, wisdom/nonsense).