Writes With Pencils

fiction, memoir, essays and poetry

Month: March, 2017

Morning Cup

The glimpse of blue
has once again
been muffled by grey.
The bare trees
The eaves
And the coffee maker
But its steaminess
releases the scent
of leather books, conversations, and contemplation
as the incessant March rain
unleashes sprout from bulb
and leaf from bud.
As it sputters
its final sighs,
not death by drowning—
but morning life
into my waiting cup,
it pours.

I Me Wed

Revisiting an old poem with new perspective.

Writes With Pencils

photo (86)

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

there were no invitations sent

no dresses sewn

no favors wrapped

no banquet laid.

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

there’ll be no flower girls

no ring bearers

no maid of honor

no best man.

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

there’ll be no carriage at my door

no petals strewn

no smiling guests

no officiant.

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

there’ll be no groom to meet me

to hold my hand

to hear my vows

to accept my ring.

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

there’ll be no husband to kiss my lips

to feed me cake

to toast our love

to waltz with me in joy.

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

I have rewritten and revised my vows

made each verb reflexive

tried on a dress of aubergine

and reserved a quiet, sacred spot.

Tomorrow is my wedding day,

I will pick orange dahlias for my bouquet

put on lipstick…

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Winter Banquet

From my place at the table
through the leaded panes
I watch
sparrows, robins, finches
and chickadees
hop, flutter, and flit
from the cedar fence ridge
and naked plum tree boughs
to the freshly filled feeder—
its top a beacon of yellow
the only color beyond the spectrum
of wintergreens
and dormant umbrage
at the string of grey
marked in months of days
while the plump squirrel
perches and plots his plan
this fruitless season,
no time of famine.

Still Life of Forty-Nine

Death looks past
the circus bear
balanced on a candlestick

the hidden geisha
does not judge
but the scottie turns away

and only the settling
of dust marks time
as the silent clock stands still.


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