solitude

Time Descending

lillian9 Comments

I flung my arms out wide
to feel the wind
that sun baked day
danced, skirt billowing

cool sand between my toes

I stretched my arms out wide
to erase the fear
eyes locked on yours
step by first step, second, third

you chortled, giggling towards me

I curved my arms out wide
to envelop your leaving self
joyful sad, then turned and watched
the airport swallow you

emptiness descending

I raise these arms
tissue thin sagging skin
eyes search yours

name descending

shawl droops down legs
dancing somewhere
a thin filament

within this brain

disappearing into mist

wheelchair-1430696

We the Voyeurs

lillian7 Comments

We fly in this metal cylinder
to escape the city frenzy
and we still sit in the midst of it.
Hear metal belt click shut
and engines roar
feel the rush of air
from round blow holes overhead.
Nothing natural in this enclosed world.

Binoculars hang about our necks
a noose we choose to use.
Instead of trekking high,
step by step, from tree line to the sky
we ride a four wheeled bus,
now dusty from its assault,
on roads carved deep
into your very core.

We crane our necks
at white dots on mountain tops
adjust a rubber eye piece to our face
seek to magnify without a fuzzy blur.
Specs become horned dall sheep,
heads down to graze upon the rocks
unaware of human spies
with black binoculars eyes.

Last night, we communed with earth
faces up, we stared
into the cold black diamond sky.
One star jarred loose,
arced its way across the sky
as if to tell us in its glitter script,
you are the voyeurs within this space.

IMG_1841

Denali National Park bus. The Kantishna Experience goes to the end of the one and only road in the park — to mile 92.  I was struck by the magnificence of the land and its inhabitants: grizzlies (see poem Ursa), caribou, moose, dall sheep. And I kept thinking that we were the voyeurs, the interlopers in this incredible place.

Shadow Me

lillian13 Comments

Motivator for my Shadow poem

We walk, you in front of me
one created flesh and bone
the other born of sun
elongated faceless gray.

Seamlessly
we stroll the beach
arms out wide, now close in
darkness plays with light.

I stop you stop
your head turns as mine.
We follow a gull’s flight
rising from the sea.

If I turn, reverse my course
will you dance behind,
like the kite that zigs and zags
when its master loosens hold?

Revised, revisited from a very early post. How I love Cape Cod and playing with my shadow!

A Study in Tears

lillian10 Comments

photo

I cried today
peeling onions
at our black marble countertop
knife chopping
on the old scarred cutting board.
I laughed at myself
as salty tears seasoned diced sweet yellow
enough for two, waiting for your footsteps.

I cried today
walking in the rain
the Charles covered in mist
damp fog coolness on my face,
your absence by my side.
A young couple scurried by
unaware that my tears ached
with rivulets from the sky.

I cried today
in front of our tv
on our corduroy couch
stained by tears on wales.
Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr,
an Affair to Remember
their ending so bittersweet
ours so not.

And I wondered
if anyone,
beyond these walls
could hear
my silent
primal
scream.

Motivated by rereading a prompt from my poetry mentor, Holly Wren Spaulding, in a previous class with her.  Write a poem using “anaphora” —  repetition of a word or phrase. 

Even Song

lillian11 Comments

green tent

Plop
Patter
Ping
Slow steady nocturnal rain
taps on the yellow-green ceiling
of my ancient canvas tent.
Comfort seeps in as I burrow deep
in my cocoon zippered bag,
crisp cold nose, just outside the seam.
Lids shutter slowly as ears perk to listen.
Thoughts float in a cool haze.
A hooting owl sits sheltered
by spring’s green-yellow canopy.
The drip, drop, patter
plops above its feathered head.
Dreaming now,
a moon sliver guides me
to a sleep moment of clarity.
These rain notes are nature’s evensong.
A prayer
for all who sleep in this forested place.

rain-233545_1280

Revised from one of my very first poems written in February, in my first class with Holly Wren Spaulding. Posted so early in March (as Rain Song) , I doubt but five people saw it!
UPDATE:  I am in Alaska, as you read this! Will be posting every other day for two weeks until I return.  Mostly new — poems that is — although I will be rejuvenated (love that word!) even more upon my return to Boston, our city by the sea.

Spent

lillian3 Comments

photo-3

She sat with the counselor
and tried to explain
to divulge in words
what had not been said
for too many years.

Over-size
dime-store dark glasses
hid the terror trail
as she sat, tense
alert, waiting.

Hands clasped in lap
hid fingernails
chewed to nothingness
feet pressed on floor, heels together
knees together too.

A posture learned
to pull in, retreat
be small
in the smallest
amount of space.

She flinched
as he leaned in
and so he adjusted
settled back in the chair
to listen with his eyes.

And finally
she answered
slowly
each word mumbled
yet distinct.

 I feel like
a sandwich cookie
pryed open
pulled apart
licked raw
and gnawed upon
crumb by crumb
and now
I am totally consumed.

Spring Chill

lillian3 Comments

She wandered outside this early morn
stunned to be alone
last night’s storm, still wet upon the lawn.
She walked the garden
unaware that wisps of cloud
accompanied her overhead.

Reaching out,
she cupped the tulip crown
within her saddened hand
and watched, as petals dislodged,
weighed down with rain,
fell slowly to the ground.

Feet damp and cold,
she sat in one of two chairs
on the cement slab they called a patio.
Eyes pressed shut, face tilted to the sky
she felt the sun, breathed in the lilac scent
and finally understood.

What Lies Beneath

lillian9 Comments

I’ve searched a lifetime for my soul mate.
I lie here on the ground, looking up, feeling down.
Rock edges poke through new mown grass
like questions nudging through my spine.

I start to ruminate, cogitate
mull over impossible possibilities.
This much I know, our world is round
and I exist right here, right now, on this orb.

If I could somehow push the earth
compress its latitudes,
would I find you, prone like me
somewhere, deep below?

Just a diameter away,
lying still, listening for my breath
through curves in our globe
searching too, looking for me?