Cheer For Spring

Cheer growth –
beneath a heavy cloud cover
Canada goose passes
overhead, while I
wander

Wander –
behind a veil of rainy grey
lens poised to capture life –
swallows swoop and
rise up

Rise up –
over rushing waters, branch high,
blackbirds huddle, demand
my attention –
focus

Focus –
reveals newness: buds breaking through,
colours promising that
chilly winds disperse,
cheer growth

Cheer growth –
behind a veil of rainy grey
blackbirds huddle, demand
chilly winds disperse –
cheer growth.

(Cheer for Spring first appeared here April 2019, and is a Garland cinquain. Image my own)

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The Car Crash

That time, playing in the muck,
foot emerging without a boot,
hopping and laughing
all the way home…

Then, later, on the bus
the impact of the car
the windshield cracking
like a giant spider
blood all over
the dead lady’s face

All in the past –
sunroof open
kids riding along,
music blaring

But trauma is a spider
Arachne reaching into happy places
and as much as I speed up
to avoid her,
fight to disable
her attack;
she weaves herself new limbs,
begins the onslaught anew

And I am stuck in the mud again
no longer limber enough
to dance my way home in the rain.

(The Car Crash first appeared here in March of 2020. Edited for this version. Image my own.)

Snapdragons

Snapdragons transport me
back to Father’s gardens –
the pleasure of pinching
delicate floral lips

Forbidden, was I
tiny feet banished from
tiers of ordered colours –
how he worshipped those rows

Hours spent on knees,
as if in prayer… attention
lavished on nurturing growth
while I shrivelled on sidelines

Longed to dig beside him,
sully my hands and share
his passion, ignorant of
an inner drive to weed

Felt only walls of separation
the coldness of perfection,
so in my wilful way,
I rebelled against taboos

On tiptoe, stepped between
the bobbing arrangements
marred the well-tended soil
and pinched the snapdragons.

(Snapdragons first appeared here in March, 2018. Edited for this edition. Art my own)

Who Will Stop The Onslaught?

A nine-year-old skips
along the centre line
of an abandoned street
imagination empowered
by sunshine blue skies

Till the low rumble
of aircraft startles her
and she runs for cover
praying to an absent God
to take her now, young
heart too bruised to carry on.

A fifteen-year-old huddles
in a dank underground corner
already violated by a war
she did not ask for,
shamed by her body’s betrayal
praying for a death more forgiving

A mother holds her baby close
tremors such an indelible part of life now
grasps for a God she once believed in
sees the vacancy in adolescent eyes
the joylessness of her weeping child
prays for a way out of this hell.