When I Think Of Future Plans….

A haibun inspired by Frank’s challenge about crickets, and the last FDDA, about plans for September. I will miss FDDA, but I’m always grateful for FOWC. I’ve also been trying to respond to other prompts, but this is the best one that I wrote today.


Tomorrow begins September. There are no particular plans, but I hope for more time with friends and being able to actually enter the church again. There were no plans for August, either, other than my friends’ live-streamed wedding on the 1st, but the month was better than expected. I’ll take September one day at a time. Too much thinking and I’ll start sinking in anxieties. As always, I’ll be hunting for the silver lining.

in silence a sound:
August chirping a goodbye —
crickets out of sight

Ferocious Optimism

For today’s Weekly Scribblings, we are considering our foundations. I am also sharing this with FOWC: Nothing. Special thanks to Sarah for her beautiful and life-filled poem Walking at the Edge. Although the topic is much different, I read her poem earlier today and was inspired by the life in her poem, and I felt like her poem contained a “ferocious optimism,” hence the title and inspiration for this poem.


Yes:
Every breath means she
Is not drowned underneath
New, bad news arriving daily.

Yes:
Every step means she
Has not allowed depression
To render her inert, bedridden.

Yes:
Every trembling of the Earth she
Wonders if this is the “Big One;”
Somehow there’s still a foundation.

Yes:
Every morning means she
Breathes, steps, and wonders anew
That nothing has beaten her too blue.

Stream-of-Consciousness

The prompt for today’s SoCS: Pro and Con fits well with DVerse MTB, Stream-of-Consciousness poems. I couldn’t resist! 


The pros and cons of stream-of-consciousness writing:

You can pen whatever happens to be in your brain

Without any sort of editing or strain, you don’t

even need punctuation or rhymes of any particular

Creation — Look, an abrupt change of thought,

I dash — — onto the text next topic my view

Is not myopic but see, a con is maybe,

The poem doesn’t make no sense — well,

That’s my two cents. And two cents can’t buy

Anything these days anyway.

The Garden Is Growing

For Quadrille Monday this week, Victoria asks us, “How does your garden grow?” I’m a day late with this, but here is mine. I might add pictures later.


Everything that she touches dies.
So the garden in front of these eyes
Was planted by her brother’s loving hands.
Her heart such beauty understands,
In awe of God and human skill
Under the sun, her spirits rise.
Gratitude and peace her worries still.

Flying in Circles

This is for FOWC: Catch and inspired by my time outside this afternoon.


Black butterfly with yellow on its wings’ edge
Keeps flying in front of me; I can’t
Grasp it but it keeps returning, as if
Attempting to catch my attention, gesturing
Towards something which still escapes me.

Garden Tableau

This is a Tableau poem for the Saturday Mix “lucky dip.” Sitting outside in my family’s back yard, I wrote this. I’m not sure about the final line; the poem got kind of dark, but anyway, I’ll stop rambling 🙂 and let you read it.


In the breeze, swaying
Sunflowers, whirring
Hummingbird, coming
And going between
The floral faces
Withered, shriveled here.

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I really like this photo, which I took last August.

Through the Pane of Glass

This is for DVerse Poetics, where Peter asks us to write about the view out of our window. I’m posting late because I wanted to get a really good photo, but by this morning, I was willing to settle for this. 

 

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With the blinds open,
Yet hidden behind panes
Of glass and a screen,
I look out upon our lawn,
A pathway, trees and greenery:
The sky is blank today.
I see my neighbors’ houses
But no neighbors about.

Later I might see
Some people walking dogs,
The sun might smile.
It’s likely that I will
Stay inside, continuing
To observe the scene, writing.

The Sunrise Speaks

Written in response to MLMM’s Tale Weaver: Sunrise.


Come — you have nothing
To be afraid of.
Come — follow me
All the way across the sky
I am the sunrise.
I am what makes morning
Bright and beautiful.
Awake — next to my breaking
Rays of nascent dawn.
Awake — are you following
My light’s arc, so lovingly drawn?

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The Birds Outside

This is a décima for this week’s challenge, BIRD.

Ronovan Writes Decima Challenge Image

Avian calls are each day heard
Around this house, even indoors:
Heavily, light melody pours,
Each morning it’s freshly offered.

Hiding in trees’ branches, a bird
Decides it must sing me awake,
The gentlest alarm — I take
Its urgent notes to heart, and stand,
A hopeful morning close at hand —
A happy being, at daybreak.

Lawn Mowers and the Library

A first-person narrative for DVerse. We are almost out of time to link up, but read others here.


Friday afternoon I am taking in

The whir of the gardener’s lawn mower.

The aroma released from the freshly-cut grass.

The sun smiling on my eager face

The reward of slightly-achy legs,

As I walk home from the library,

Which is now closed indefinitely.