ReadingThe End

You can fly, Mary! by Judith Clay

Reading The End

Read to me
I crave the color of French
today, your tongue on  méringue
makes me smile.

I loved you
the day we wore lime green stockings

to the theatre and talked and talked
in a hush until we couldn’t.

We blew our noses in the new aloe
tissues and walked home without knowing
the ending.

Write to me
about the chickens in the yard
and how they strut to the beat of indie
renaissance, I can feel my wings
growing when home is stitched
in your handwriting.

about me
in the morning

I’ll wait for you

The End.


Today over at dVerse, we were treated to the inspiring art of Judith Clay.

Judith Clay is a traditional artist born in Germany who works primarily in ink, pastel, colored pencil, and collage on drawing or watercolor paper.”





“In the end”

April challenge Day Six

First off, happy birthday to my dad.

Second, today in the challenge we were told write a Hiding Poem. Me hiding, you hiding, a hidden object, a hidden meaning, a hidden agenda. Which way would go with this one?

Here’s mine:

“In the end”

there are
but eleven in a
glass sea of beliefs–
dragons holding hands
with Lewis’s Jeweled Unicorn
in The Last Battle, a Roman Diana
bathing with Apollo and the beast, lotus
and fire, slayings and false tongues—if there are but nine
fearing the pillar of salt, unwilling to whisk dreams and gods
and paradises into ONE and only ONE . .
if there are but seven drifting like
cinnamon in yeast manna,
fading two by two into
despair, will you
help us find
each other
in the