Signs of longing

The scent of you still lingers on your pillow.
(I cannot bear to wash the case.)

The dog still sits by the door before dinner time,
ears up, eyes sparkling, mouth agape,
listening for the jingle of car keys
to tell her you’re home.

And I still remember that evening
when we walked out to the far end of the pier
and watched the sun go down,
the sky grow dark,
and a galaxy of stars emerge so bright
they could have lit our path home
even without the firefly show that accompanied them. Continue reading

A walk on the shore

The shoreline meanders and we with it
skimming rocks across the sleepy water,
murmuring to each other,
our voices hushed as we watch
for the shimmery flash
of fish surfacing
to snatch an evening meal.

In the distance a solitary fisherman
casts off,
the silken thread from his reel
spinning out into the lake,
offering a too-easy dinner
for any fish lazy or foolish enough
to accept. Continue reading

Prigione

He turns metal drums into murals,
rescues industrial waste containers
to pound flat
and cut
with intricate patterns,
swans and fish and foliage emerging
from their former prisons of tin,
prigione
released
from the captivity that denied their very existence.


Yesterday’s Poetic Earth Month challenge from Tweetspeak Poetry was to write a poem about a reclamation process. I’m not sure this is a finished poem; it might be just a fragment. What do you think?