My husband's poetry

Category: nature

  • Calyx

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    cfblack
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    iris breeder lays hands on flowers yellows, reds and blues violets, pinks and purples ___ genuflects cleans tuber feet holy blossoms scent room ___ brushes dirt from knees and hands prays on garden bench for return of spring 2-17-20

  • Numinous

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , , ,

    Little bird sings alone sings to buds and leaves of the limb sings to trees and light in the woods Little bird sings of love sings to rising and setting of the sun sings to wind and moon in the sky 2-16-20

  • shooting star

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    night sky scratch of light hole torn in dark fabric let’s escape before the wound heals 2-15-20

  • Frog hymns

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    In the woods Tree frogs sing Sing songs of waking Sing Spring’s first hymn Sing call and response Is anyone awake? …I am Where are you? …Over here Where is here? …Tell me about yourself, first I am male, isn’t that enough? …I want to be romanced I don’t have all night …We have all…

  • Imagining My Northern Mother as a Southern Girl

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    by

    cfblack
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    tulip trees and camellias flash spring fashion reds and pinks and whites my mother would of loved April and May arriving in February I wonder what she would have decorated her yard with I imagine a magnolia yellow day lilies and something purple like grandpa’s irises that bloomed in May she would have grown vegetables…

  • In defense of naps

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    on a windless day, you attempted to meditate yourself into stillness as the earth spun at 1,000 mph orbiting a star at 66,600 mph while the star orbited in a galaxy at 536, 865 mph and all of it fleeing a big bang at 1,332,000 mph you decide to take a nap, because you believe…

  • all night

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    cfblack
    in , , ,

    all night the wind talked to the trees I lied in bed and listened to stories about mountains, prairies and seas 2-7-20

  • Arsonist

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    by

    cfblack
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    History is not for sure who designed Nero’s clothes what song he played on his fiddle if it was a top 40 hit or if he fiddled at all but they remember the stench of Rome burning History is not for sure about all of his infidelities or if he was incestuous who hung his…

  • Three words

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    The man who lives two doors down and across the street walks everyday and waits until he turns the corner to light his cigarette he rarely speaks Today, he looks up from his phone and says, “How are you?” I reply, “I’m good; I think it may rain.” he takes another drag on his cigarette…

  • rain

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , , ,

    Birds are mysteriously silent on the subject of rain Squirrels don’t pole dance on wet trees Neighbors don’t walk their dogs in a storm I’m on my porch wondering what Mr. Chesterton had against cheese 2-6-20