Short poem

by

poetry: wind 

21/30

dirt between toes
grows nothing
summer heat takes it
cooks me in caramel sauce
loss
forget peach pits
sticky skin peeling
beer bottles stuck in sand
give me wind
thinned 
veiny see-through leaves
silk scarf blowing
coffee bear hugs
bury the acorn
reborn
stones stacked higher
letters scratch
pinecone hearts sing
sit with me
dear
here
where the air blows
again
and again
and again
forever

More short poems:
1/30: not my cat
2/30: comfort
3/30: ache
4/30: remember
5/30: graduation
6/30: big love
7/30: Heavy and light
8/30: delicate
9/30: leaping
10/30: Dad gave me…
11/30: solstice
12/30: twisted
13/30: starving
14/30: open up
15/30: lines
16/30: daybreak
17/30: moon water
18/30: bedtime
19/30: typewriter
20/30: supermoon

by

poetry: supermoon

20/30

we look upwards
towards a promise
we are small
but not alone
we are lonely
but not small

she sees us
our broken hearts
our shadow shapes
how we twist
moving in parallel
dreaming in sync

maybe bright means
lighter than before
we stand quiet
hands reach out
we look upwards
towards a promise

More short poems:
1/30: not my cat
2/30: comfort
3/30: ache
4/30: remember
5/30: graduation
6/30: big love
7/30: Heavy and light
8/30: delicate
9/30: leaping
10/30: Dad gave me…
11/30: solstice
12/30: twisted
13/30: starving
14/30: open up
15/30: lines
16/30: daybreak
17/30: moon water
18/30: bedtime
19/30: typewriter

by

poetry: graduation

5/30

the moon, the stars and me 
watched you walk proudly
across the stage. we smiled
knowing the truth. love
doesn’t recognize such things
as endings or beginnings. only
connection and connection. love
isn’t contingent or feeble.
it doesn’t come with strings
or weights. free and full—
vast as the infinite universe.
i’m forever here for you.

The moon during graduation.

More short poems:
1/30: not my cat
2/30: comfort
3/30: ache
4/30: remember

by

poetry: ache

3/30

an old ache woke today
i thought it drowned in Miami
while hard waves crashed my thighs
salt meeting salt

but here it is again
calling loudly of hidden rushing waterfalls
not dry deserts or busy cityscapes
chosen not settled

go away, i half whisper
folding myself into my rough hammock
while a tiny brown bird sings
without an answer

More short poems:
1/30: not my cat
2/30: comfort