Bonnie’s Day Off

On his way out the door Bonnie kisses Clyde goodbye and says in her quiet voice, y’know, that voice, Hey Honey, pick up some money at the bank on your way home, will ya?

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OK, not poetry. But it is amusing and has a rhyme… honey/money, which reminds me… Please check out my donation/tip page on your way through.

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Hillside

Out from the shadows through the wildness of green
along rivers and creeks and where people have been;
I am lone upon a hillside.

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And the land, all but still, and the sun at its height
and a wind or a will over mountains and farmlands,
wide rivers and oceans; sunlight filtering through
greens; upon my knees and this forest floor
swept clean as a chapel.

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In the distance, broad places of people
and the sounds and silences of livingngess.

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Pangaea

Standing.  Alone.
A yellow sky.  A shudder, grind
And hesitation of the earth.
Below, black seas heave and sigh
Against a scar of land.
Night.  Yellow sky remains.
Arc and flicker.
I breathe.  Night fades.
A shallow breath.
Acid rain falls gently.

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Pangaea: Proto-continent existing about a half billion years ago eventually breaking into two continental masses, Gondwana & Laurasia. Gondwana: made up of areas now Africa, most of Australia, India, South America & Antarctica.   Laurasia: North America, Greenland, Europe & Asia north of the Himalayas.

Hymn of the Fallen Tree

Let me rest among these giant souls that stand
where trees once stood.

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Here, greens break into blacky-blues and dragonflies
and dusts of beetle dung grow old withal.

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Let me rest among the salmonberry and the tumblewood
of cotton, ash and hemlock, fir and cedar.

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And let the wind stir of pine above the fall reawaken me
in early greens and sapling dress, anon.

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Previous titled, “Tumblewood”; published 2014, The Footprint Press.