Weaving Meaning

Nuances of nostalgia –
jagged edges
succumbing
to unsuspecting cubes

nourishment
moving and opening
I distract
We grapple
under construction

Meaning percolates
This is life
these bits and pieces
of a resurrection
dragons and time machines
ticket stubs
scattered.

(Originally titled, Weaving Bits and Pieces, this was a found poem – the product of collective responses to a prompt. Image my own.)

Attitude Wins

If I measure progress
by “used-to’s”
illness and age win

I used to play tennis
speed and muscle
ease of ambition

This place, the nexus
of how life has changed,
teaches me appreciation

Frost in my veins
permanent, warmth
of memories aglow.

(Image my own.
Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson)

Rainbows

Nostalgia casts rainbows
over stormy passages
Why is darkness so alluring?

I breathe passion into losses
soul revolting against the light
committed to seduction of perhaps

Where is the wisdom in this brooding?
Naïve rumination seldom begets the gold
best to look away when rainbows appear.

(For Eugi’s Weekly Challenge: rainbows. Image my own.)

Cedar Waxwing

A spot of red
and dash of yellow
bandana masked eyes
how you transport me
to simpler times –
childhood days
when you and I
wiled away hours
hidden deep
beneath summer
canopies – maple,
beech and willow –
listened for whispers
on the wind,
searched for treasure
on rocky creek bottom.

Years since our paths
have crossed like this,
have you returned
as reminder –
your sweetness
a blessing, now
that I only linger
at woods’ edge?

No matter the reason,
I am content
that we meet again,
my friend of old.

(For Granny Shot It’s Bird of the Day.  Photo from personal collection.)

 

Looking Back

Years when children,
perpetually in motion,
required a referee –
Mom’s energy replete

so ephemeral now –
time having vanished,
weariness lingering,
savouring memory blurs.

(Inspired by my grandchildren, and the prompts of Ragtag Community: ephemeral, and Fandango: referee. Image from personal collection.)