Mess

Messes! We all must deal with them from time time.

Here’s a mess I am more than pleased to deal with.

Have a messy, messy day!!

Mess

Sunlight butters
the dark blinds,
drips

from the window’s ledge,
and puddles
behind the sofa

where the cat
will surely lap
that cream.

We’ll need
to clean each whisker,
sticky with morning

and warmth
before the moon’s shine
drips

and makes another
fine mess.

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A Memory

Driving to work this morning, I drove through a heavy, heavy pocket of fog, a fog that got me thinking.

Image result for spirit of the forest
A Memory

I glimpsed a lost memory
bounding through a fog
that flooded the air
between the old pines,
dark with age and regret.

For a moment,
it considered me,
those wild eyes
each burning,
the moon’s cold fire.

Then, like some sylvan spirit,
it slipped between the folds
of shadow and thought,
again, abandoned me,
toting the heft of my name,

gifting me only
the morning’s dank chill.

 

In this Rain

It’s raining here in Vernon, New Jersey, a cold, gray rain. And who doesn’t like ogres?

Image result for ogres

In this Rain 

Even the ogre,
his heart as wild as havoc,
as stout as stone,

cowers under the oak limbs,
praying kindly sprites
might lift

a forest shadow
from the dank earth,
drape it over his shoulders.

The air is cold.
Old bones
clack and shiver.

A Wish

If you could enter a fairytale, would you alter its unraveling or simply let it unfold as it has time and time again?

Image result for big bad wolf
A Wish

Yes, today, to wrap myself in shadow,
as a shivering child might sink
within a blanket’s cocoon,
to stand as still as lost memories,

a stone beside a forest path,
as an ogre might,
where wolves creep
sniffing for that scent,

a bouquet of innocence,
small ones draped in red cloaks
hefting baskets laden with jams
and warm breads,

to touch an old tale,
to watch that ink drip
from a wrinkled page and delightfully
taint the forest’s floor.