Sparkles sound
on morning rings,
but only the cygnets
hear.
Danger lurks
between the reeds,
but only the mother
knows.
Stay safe,
stay warm,
under my wing,
gliding till day is
full.
But sparkles die
when nightfall comes,
and only the cygnets
cry.
In the twinkling
of an eye
it must follow
as the night
the day
where the barefaced moon
and the myriad of stars
politely fade
as they undress today
with a hint
of blushing dawn
baring the indiscretions
of day’s rattling skeleton
that must be covered
and hung upon
the cheek of night
and cursed be he
that moves the bones
a true beginning
of the end
Today begins the PAD (poem a day) challenge at Poetic Asides. Although my health is a day-to-day battle, I am attempting to compete again. Armed with an arsenal of medications, I am back in the trenches. I will be posting my poems here and at Poetic Asides. Please leave comments that would help me choose my TOP 5 for the month, as that is all I can finally submit at the end of the month. I appreciate all the support my friends, poet community, and family have given me to keep me going. THANKS!
PROMPT 1: Write a lonely poem.
Cat’s purr
enticing me
fighting to stay awake.
Chair knowing me
my weight pressing
our lonely embrace.
Clock mocking me
chiming in
filling my nothing day.
Cat seeking warmth again
playing with my furniture
with Shadows hiding the Sun.
Could I be losing
more than a game
as Pain becomes my friend?
How still the morning,
with the air not yet awake
to move our curtains.
In my husband’s chair
the cat is deaf to the sound
of my slippers.
He waits in a curl,
his head tucked into a memory
of my grandmother’s fox collar.
She pinched its jaw to bite its tail,
fur hiding cracks in her old chin.
In my husband’s chair
a slight fanning of matted fur
sinking,
lifting,
allows my breath
to slip in through my fingers.
I had thought him dead.
But he pinched another day
out of his old bones.