Author: lillian

Insomnia

lillian7 Comments

Half-pulled shade, headlights dance
in the space before the sill.
Thoughts of nothing and everything
bounce inside my head.
Days gone by reappear, faces blur then clear
generations meld one to the next.
Eye-open dreams change scenes quickly
acts play out in milliseconds.
Like a thousand moths flitting round the light
ideas, words, pictures, feelings, here then gone.
Time moves forward on a nearby shelf,
illumined dial ignores my stalled state.
I watch you beside me, face up, eyes closed.
You wear the night so well, sleep looks delicious.
I match my breath to yours, slow syncopation
like snow flakes falling in the dark of night.
No sound. One by one, breath by breath
and finally I drift.

snowflakes-1479963

Reflections

lillian9 Comments

Have you seen the moment?
When the sun, in all her glory
becomes maker of the glorious.
Beyond warmth,
she turns light rays into magic
magnified by two.
Image maker supreme
in smooth-as-glass mountain tarns,
upon a building’s see-through wall
or in the garden’s sculpture pond.
The beautiful is embellished,
shines double delight.

In response to the Daily Post Photo Challenge: Ornate.  Photos: Mt. Rainer at Reflection Pond in Mt Rainer National Park; The Dale Chihuly glass displays in Denver Botanic Gardens; reflection of Trinity Church in Boston’s John Hancock Tower; Stan Hywet Gardens in Akron, Ohio.

Some We Leave Behind

lillian10 Comments

Stubborn firs stand warm and smug
beside the giving trees,
shadows now of skeletons
against clear blue skies.

Ground glitters red and gold,
cracks beneath the rakers’ feet
as he piles the oldest, most brittle
atop the crimson bright.

Tis time to take our leave
and slowly say goodbye
to those once colorful days
of leaping, laughing youth.

Photos from walks and visits this past week.

Panama Worker #898

lillian41 Comments

It was the only evidence left.

He came to build someone else’s dream, a canal between two oceans. One year of back-breaking labor, and then a joyous return to Rosa and young Henry. His pay would ensure simple things they grappled for now. Shoes that fit a young boy’s ever-growing feet, and warm coats for cold winters.

He managed to escape malaria and avoid the brothels. His wiry mud-caked frame always alert. Nimble fingers. Quick legs. Just ten days more. Twist the wires. Set the charge and run like hell. Only this time, hell exploded in his hands.

wired

Photo by Connie Gayer.  Word Count: 98 words.
Flash fiction using this week’s photo prompt for Friday Fictioneers.

Old Woman?

lillian18 Comments

I am an old woman
with the audacity to hope.
I shall wear purple
and travel to 1,000 places,
walk in the woods, eat, pray
and make love to a staggering genius.
I shall write letters from the earth
to all my friends above.
Tell them plain and simple,
at this age, the heart leaps
much higher than leaden feet
and I intend to do the long jump.
I will not stay off camera.
And I will settle for nothing less
than a raucous standing ovation
when I do decide to exit
center stage.

books 1 books 2 books 3 books 4

In the form of Found Poetry:  created from book titles on my shelf –  When I am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple, The Audacity of Hope, 1,000 Places to Live, A Walk in the Woods; Eat, Pray, Love; A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius, Letters from the Earth, Plain and Simple, and Off Camera.

October 31, 2015

Sousa by Nature

lillian4 Comments

He chose a hickory nut tree
acorns too dainty,
tinny in their ping.

Tree-felled hickory nuts
percussive on the roof
pelted solid deep raps.

Band leader by trade
he created a Sousa drum line
directly above our heads.

militay-band-4-1430112

Photo credit: Mike Vam.  John Phillip Sousa:  1854 – 1932. American composer most famous for his military marches IE Stars and Stripes Forever and Sempir Fidelis (official march of the U.S. Marines).