Snow Angel

lillian8 Comments

In the midst of the forest, a winter mystery.

Quietly I tread, trail growing in drifts
this midnight walk to escape my emptiness.
One soft breeze, but for a moment,
takes my eyes to the scene.

Wide-winged depression on new fallen snow
sole sign of disturbance this quiet night.
Footprints absent, no tracks, not a soul,
trees stand tall, hushed in veil of white.

An aura of glimmer appears in that shape
lifts slowly, approaches, then hovers
with me in its midst,
that moment of calm, a moment of peace.

Crystals of light narrow to rise
higher and higher, and then they are gone.
Snow mounded where once they lie
and I left in wonder, my eyes to the sky.

snow angel photo by Debbie Shiel

All the World’s a Stage

lillian3 Comments

with apologies to Will Shakespeare

So many footlights burned out
spotlight jarred askew
curtains removed, scrim gone
proscenium arch stands stark.

Program says Act Three,
audience hushed, anticipates tragedy.
Director expects me, in shrouded black,
to slump upon the floor.

The script be damned.

Bulges revealed in sequined leotard,
fish net stockings over varicose veins.
Audience gasps at tapping frenzy
shuffles, wings, and Rockette highs.

Grinning, laughing, I finally decide,
this coda shall end.
And in the pit, the timpani booms
as I exit like a flying dervish
to joyous applause.

also called Timpani, with two mallets

My Hope for All

lillian2 Comments

A new born babe
whose being passeth all understanding,
shall bring joy into the world,
familial love magnified
in a humble manger scene.
And generation after generation
will celebrate the light.

Families will give thanks
as the smiles and laughter of youth
remind us on Christmas morn,
every winter solstice, and every dawn,
hope and love are the true gifts.
May we strive to kindle light and kindness
and spread peace throughout our world
on this day, and forever more.

stars

For all readers, may we celebrate the joy and innocent hope that each newborn represents, no matter the place of birth, the status, ethnicity or religion of the parents. And for those who celebrate Christmas, I wish you the blessings of the season. May everyone have a happy and healthy new year! 

 

Shrink Wrapped

lillian14 Comments

News on reels, envelopes sealed with spit
new was last month or a week gone by.
Today it interrupts my present,
becomes a never ending loop.

Sunday drives with i spy and the license game
morphed into get-me-there robots.
Talking heads decapitated
into monotone maps.

Family restaurants turned mausoleums.
Mommy, daddy, Ashley and Drake
eyes down and mouths shut.
Thumbs talk…with imaginary friends.

Paris in Paducah and Chicago too,
a world of twitter and bird shit.
Color me shrink wrapped
and struggling to breathe.

birds_tweeting

In response to dVerse Poets Pub, December 17 prompt. Write about the times we have lived in – describe the life of the decades you have gone through. Free-write whatever comes to mind and then create your poem around those ideas. Cut it down but keep that raw feeling from your initial free-write.

Empty Nest

lillian14 Comments

Coffee cup in hand, she focused on the shapes coming into focus through the morning mist. James said they’d be a family science project. Bat houses. She’d agreed, only if they were a good distance from the house…

A good distance from the house…in-state college would have been nice. She smiled softly, thinking about the “Roots and Wings” adage on the plaque above her bureau. He sure spread his wings…

The telephone startled her. Coffee sloshed as she grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“Oh, sorry mom. Did I wake you? It’s noon here. Just wanted to touch base. I miss you.”

kitchen-window

Word Count: 100.
Photo credit: Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.
Flash Fiction written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fictioneers.
Learn more about bat houses!