English Lesson, Kindergarten
Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
Writing comes from listening, so I’ve taken quiet steps outside away from the loud to hear better. Eyes open this time to see AND hear–this– the delicate drops of fuchsia, ballerinas fluttering like so many upside-down firecrackers, fragile, full of beauty dropping feathery tendrils to the silent air.
Texas Sky April 2011 Thunderclouds are roiling on the horizon, stacking up East-wise, threatening to move in– move in and dump. But they’re whiter than white can be and only so much vapor. I imagine their rumbling high over distant mountains, molecules leaving mess and mayhem, headed this way. But there’s no running for…
Furious gusts of wayward windstrip branches bare of late season leaves,punctuating the sky with explosions of colorand silent, sweeping stars.
My cough appears each hour with the annoying regularity of a political ad. Its persistence is wearing me down. The election is over, the advertisements are gone. No more enduring the monotony of a grating sound I do not want to hear. (did I tell you I have a cough?) I did my part–voted the…
No one eats a slice of lemon meringue pie because they’re hungry. There’s no sustenance in golden brown gelatinous spun sugar. No energy to be gained by consuming a butter-laden yellow middle, no food group that would deem this crust of crumbs worthy of a bite. But I consume anyway, my eyes convincing me I…
There’s a lot one can say about the power of being quiet (yes, I see the irony). When listening forefronts the mind other senses muscle their way into place (the ears above all) take in the not-words simply song, hum and tone …