Moving between worlds,
egg to leaf,
leaf to stone,
stone to leaf,
leaf to tree,
caterpillar to cocoon. Continue reading
Tag Archives: photograph
Goodbye, Summer
Goodbye, summer.
Goodbye, beach. Continue reading
Iris Giants
My garden is peopled
with bearded giants,
purple, plump, and
peppered with gold dust. Continue reading
Take Me Home, Country Road
Wheels crunching gravel,
we ventured off paved roads
to find our hearts beat
in the wild places Continue reading
Ode to Gold
The Olympic dream is one
that bites young and grown. Continue reading
Turn to Bloom
Moving with a Siamese Cat, poem by Brenda Davis Harsham (WHEN I MOVED Poetry and Prose Series)
Silver Birch Press published another poem, this time one that recalls moving with my cat, when I was a younger woman. Thank you Silver Birch Press and Melanie!
Moving with a Siamese Cat
by Brenda Davis Harsham
There is no agony more sublime
than moving with a Siamese cat,
yowling, howling in his box
for hours on end
until any end seems
more appealing
than continuing.
He refuses food,
refuses water,
and stares at me with
enormous freaked-out eyes,
ears back in his I’ll-Get-You look
with fangs bared.
When I release him in a motel,
my nerves are shot, I put out
food and water before I
eat myself, but it’s no good.
Merrrr-Owww-Owww.
All night.
Without stop.
Sniffing every corner,
stalking every shadow,
walking along mirror tops,
falling into the tub,
all while giving
an unearthly howl
of betrayal, rage, bewilderment
spiced with promises
of revenge.
If a cat could file for divorce,
moving two days
from home in a U-Haul
would be under
mental cruelty
and irreconcilable differences
combined.
Why did no one mention
drugs
before…
View original post 118 more words
Summer Cluster
Summer days cluster
together like roses, Continue reading
If I Were a Bee…
If I were a bee,
this is where I’d be. Continue reading
In a Word, Absurd
Don’t be absurd, I’m no bird,
I have neither wing nor urge to sing. Continue reading
Twenty Minutes at Horseneck Beach, Mass., poem by Brenda Davis Harsham (BEACH AND POOL MEMORIES Poetry and Prose Series)
Check out a picture of my daughter and a summer poem on Silver Birch Press! Such fun to write and lovely to see it published.
Twenty Minutes at Horseneck Beach, Massachusetts
by Brenda Davis Harsham
My daughter chants
Beach, beach, beach!
in her wobbling soprano.
Bluebell skies,
wavy-air heat, a
parking lot half-eaten
by sand dunes.
Stiff winds smell
salty-clamy-fishy.
We add our coconut
sunscreen scent.
My husband and I unload
one picnic blanket,
two beach chairs,
three pails,
four shovels,
one cooler,
one giant towel tote,
two beach umbrellas,
one beach cart,
one song-girl
and two grumbling boys,
looking slightly green
from wrong turns and
illegal U-turns when our
GPS failed us.
We push, shove, pull and carry
our gear past cars
pumping Brazilian rhythms
and weaving a
welter of languages,
Spanish, Hindi, Portugese,
French, American English,
Australian English, German,
Korean and your-guess.
15 minutes of donkey labor
over feet-sinking soft sand,
we reach the solid threshold
of packed damp sand.
Waves tease and retreat.
My daughter sinks her shovel
and beams as if…
View original post 184 more words
A Warning
I’ve been channeling my inner crone since my surgery. I quite like her spunk. She reminds me of Warning, a poem by Jenny Joseph:
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. Continue reading
Friendly Fairy Tales 