We move in step Our pace succinct Gaining strength From weakened knees Chest hive shaking butterflies Exorcised to far side of trees
I’m not sure if this is real Can’t believe just how I feel Falling over the bridge to up Each move un-knots Sore landing spots Sandpaper shuffles At her flip-flopped feet Living in arbor seas of green Forgetting planks
Arched frown toward peace Showing way to finally reach
Had me tongue-raveled Talking of so many things First loves Lame high school scenes College majors Burning dreams Books Future Failure Depression Creativity therein What we’ll be Depends upon More than might Brushoff Touch, set fire In blue jeans Live wiring Electricity shorts out Words come easy Curtail breath Over this stream Two lives cross Looking up to each other With smiles content to spend Reciprocal grins and sugar touch
Lakeside picnic basket lunch here, her Seeking
w
a
t
e
r
f
a
l
l
s ………………………………….…As time trails Through forest clearing ……………..Floating together ……………………………tender warm wakes Learned strides pasture worst mistakes Full knowing now that she can hang— Rather walking in serenityhand in hand Where we miss and wish again Discovering more than being happy Finding joy that isn’t planned
___________________________________________________ Want to listen to Wish Again? The above poem was written for One Stop Poetry’s Sunday Picture Prompt Challenge. Chris G. interviews Adam Romanowicz at One Stop Poetry. Fantastic photographer!
Do you remember me, Grandma?
These lilies are for you
Picked them at your favorite park
The one near Arthur Kill
Imagine she misses Grandpa
Night lights in vacant eyes
Drawn to sudden song from birds
Past war abducted mind
Do you remember me, Grandma?
When I was Little D?
Within your yard I’d cross home plate
Pretend to be a Yankee
And will you remember me, Grandma?
On this Easter Day
Slave labor tortured
We’re out of time
I watch you wheel away
____________________________________________________ Would you care to hear me read this poem?
*The above poem is my response the One Stop Poetry Picture Prompt Challenge. The above photo is by a talented and kindhearted Canadian photographer, Mr. Greg Laychak! Check out his interview today over at OSP.
This time I might discover life
Accepting death a golden scheme Well squeeze moist eyes; uplift soft sighs
This time I might discover life
Repeats no points for bitter pride
To not break down—my goal it seems This time I might discover life
Accepting death a golden scheme
__________________________________
Would you like to hear me read this Triolet?
A, B, a, A, a, b, A, B (iambic)
*The above photograph courtesy of UK photographer Fee Easton. Fee was interviewed on One Shoot Sunday.
