Letter

29 October 2009

Inspired by The Weekend Wordsmith

photo courtesy of Pink Sherbet

Correspondence is a lost art--

not the type it in and click send sort.

The kind that exacts a price

in ink, paper, postage, and hands sore

from gripping a well made pen.

Most everything is faster now than it was

when I was a kid. Back then, everything was

faster than it had been before.

I wonder at what point we’ll lose

our equilibrium; revert of necessity

to a less dizzying pace. Maybe then we’ll sit

down of our own accord on a summer evening

with a glass of actual fresh-squeezed lemonade;

write a letter to someone who remembers

less hectic times than we do.

Lucky

29 October 2009

Inspired by The Weekend Wordsmith

for MJ & the Brats

photo courtesy of Rich Bowen

He could find a four leaf clover anywhere,

and he always did--even 14 years later in my yard,

a relative stranger now. He bent toward the ground,

worked his magic once more, and I remembered

luck was a luxury--we were more like dandelions

blown across the globe wherever the Forces willed.

We flew with the wind and landed,

hoping this plot of land would be

as or more kindly than the last.

Sting

29 October 2009

Inspired by The Weekend Wordsmith

photo courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/furryscalyman/

I think I might welcome a wasp or two--

they’re a sure sign summer has long yet to surrender--

standing at the bus stop on a chilly fall twilight.

If not for the knowledge that Winter is on his way,

the morning would be relatively unmarred.

The air isn’t cold enough to sting; to rob me

of the paintbrush trees and the flaming bushes...

yet.