Sunday, April 13, 2025

The Cherita, Book 94, January 2025

Issue: "when it rains"


sorting through

the paint tubes
on my desk

I wonder
what colours my pain
will be today

A Cherita Lighthouse Award


how fragrant

this parched earth
after rain

I can almost
hear the roses
growing

A Cherita Lighthouse Award


world news

a flock
of chickadees

carrying joy
to both the hopeless
and the hopeful


shallow breathing

marks the struggle
between life and death . . .

the last gasp
of autumn colour stolen
by cruel winds


we played

hide-and seek
among rows of corn

silk tassels
woven into rings
around our fingers


two lindens

with their glossy,
heart-shaped leaves

remind me
of the way our bodies
turned silver in the moonlight


humpback whales

slip silently
through the water

why must we puny humans
leave such noise
in our wake


the sculpted blueness

inside
this glacial cave

I run my hand
over its curves
and think of you


a skulk of foxes

must have crept
into my garden last night

this morning, I found
tufts of fire among
the fountain grasses


No comments:

Post a Comment