#OctPoWriMo 13 – Monarch

Floating on the stiff breeze
Orange laced with black
No need to flutter
The winds carry her
Like a leaf with purpose.


#OctPoWriMo 12 – Kansas Seagulls

A migration of thousands,
Flashes of white and gray
Against the storm cloud sky
With the sunrise behind me.
Swirling, twirling, doubling back,
No straight course
Yet clearly heading south.
How will they get there,
Their path so randomly etched?
Play more the work.
If I had the time,
I’d wind my way like the gulls.
I’ll head out to sea when the time is right.

#OctPoWriMo 10 – Sentinels

Four Sentinels of white and rusted steel
Tower above the deserted sprawl.
Monuments of ample economy,
Past aggression and defense.

Surrounded by wasted housing
They look sullen and solitary,
Alone in each other’s company
And that of the roaming cattle
Munching the grass below.

The main road moved north,
Four lanes of speed
Between the city and the sleeper towns.
This town sleeps, now empty
No kiss will awaken the sleeping place.
No charmed prince can undo this poison.

#OctPoWriMo 9 – Poet’s Stoop

Hot coffee, cold concrete.
The poet’s stoop on an October morning.
The suburban neighborhood is quiet on Sunday.
Some have gone off to the game,
Others to church,
Others languish in bed
Avoiding the chores
Like mowing the lawn a final round
Or washing last night’s dishes.
So the poet watches the world without them,
Where the birds fly and the leaves fall
And the sliver of moon smiles down in the daylight,
Sitting on the cold concrete
Sipping hot coffee.

#OctPoWriMo 8 – Weave a Wattle

To weave a wattle,
Twigs I collect.
Piled on my plot
As high as my neck.

To weave a wattle,
I cut them to length.
I stake out my plot.
They yield with my strength.

I weave a wattle
‘Round my garden to go
To contain the flowers;
Peas I will grow.

I weave a wattle.
A fence it will make.
When the garden is ready,
The fruit I will take.