Author: cfblack
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Meditation on a Holy Day
white cirrus clouds swim in blue flag waves on a pole leaves rattle goodbye to summer winter comes slow but come it will jet contrail divides the sky the promise of spring laughs on a park swing 11-3-24
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The Flight of the Narcissist
he thought the mist would hide his retreat but it only made it difficult to drive he turned on his wipers to see and did not look back 10-30-24
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Reading the Iliad in Time of War
reading the Iliad in time of war the blood, the corpses, the victors and the dead cities in ruins, captives carried away salvation snatched from the bowels of a domesticated beast bright sun makes pages glare and hurt my eyes I retreat to the shade the story never has a different ending discarded orange peel…
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Watching Autumn from My Lawn Chair
In the South Autumn falls one leaf at a time No killing frost tells trees It’s time to change No bright and glorious week before Technicolor fades to black and white Winter invades and snow and ice lays siege 10-28-24
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23rd psalm
“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” David, the thought of lying down in green pastures Gives me chiggers. But still the pounding rhythm drones on and on and on; “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…” Stop telling me what I don’t want. David, I want nap time; I need…
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In the garden
My poem from a monthly workshop I host – the prompt was, ‘Philosophy of Life.’ ‘In the Garden’ ((the prompt was: Philosophy of Life)) This fleeting moment, life – travelers, passing through. Each breath, a whisper, each step, a dance. No destination, the journey is the goal. The universe conspires with love – let go…
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sing songs
Sing songs of unborn stars In their birth a funeral pyre Life times of journey brought us their light Celebrate both while there’s time 10-21-24
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unborn
unborn, first born, middle born, last born, still born, low born, reborn; sometimes, life is too much to bear. 10-18-24
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Feral poet
(for an unnamed friend) She writes crazy and wild and spreads her scent in your front hallway, if you let her inside. She turns up her nose at Kibble & Bits, drops dead rodents and birds at your feet then saunters away like an Amazon queen. She births poems in the bushes and under the…
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Haikus in times of war
fields of bright flowers lined up in row upon row waiting for the scythe cut flowers in vase I mourn the dead, the dying and the not yet dead if politicians fought in the front line trenches world peace would break out 10-16-24
