Sunrise, Sunset–dVerse Poetics

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Sunrise, Sunset

We stand on our deck, face north,
watch Sun rise in the east,
casting shadows on the west
flank of our garden.

This early we don’t need shade,
but shadows from our trees,
ash, maple and cherry,
practice for evening hours

when we shall yearn for shelter.
Before he sets, Sun flings
his fiery rays toward us.
Tomatoes bask in warmth,

begin to form fruit around
their fragile yellow blossoms.
Magenta lobes of the eggplant
dangle like pendulous breasts.

For our part, we unwind. Sun,
breaks through leafy branches,
casts rays through sweating glasses
of tawny chardonnay or ruddy merlot.

In the embracing shade of her boughs
I turn toward you. We watch as
Sun sighs, pulls a blanket of clouds
around his shoulders and hurls
himself over the horizon.

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Please join us at dVerse Poetics, where Lillian has us considering SHADE. And don’t forget the Haibun prompt, WABI-SABI, is open all week.

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Ash Tree, Barren–dVerse Haibun Monday

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Ash Tree, Barren
Haibun—Wabi Sabi

The ash tree that we planted, probably twenty years past, flourished until a few years ago. She not only offered the loveliness of her leaf-laden branches, she protected us from late afternoon sun and winds that howl from the west through Sierra Nevada’s Donner Pass. In autumn, she sheds dazzling gilt foliage and in spring an eruption of lime green buds poke out of her apparently dead branches.

A couple of years ago, after five years of severe drought, many of the branches failed to show growth. The dire shortage of rain, coupled with water restrictions, took their toll. This year, we had dead limbs removed and our tree is spouting out limbs from the places you would least expect.

harsh summers take toll
water, source of leaf-life, fails
on dead branch finch sings

This week I’m hosting dVerse Haibun Monday. The theme is Wabi-Sabi: the Japanese concept of imperfect beauty. To learn more please head over to dVerse, read the prompt and links offered, and add a poem of your own. Have a blessed week. The link will be open till Saturday.

Nocturne–dVerse Quadrille #37

Photo: Jim Kennedy via Flickr

This week I am hosting the Quadrille Prompt at dVerse Poets. I am asking for a poem of exactly 44 words, not including the Title, that includes the word FEAR. Remember, the prompt is open all week, so, hopefully, you will join us.

 

 

Nocturne

Owl screeches.
Frissons of fear ripple through shadowy woods,
tiny creatures scurry,
huddle ‘neath rocks and shrubs.
Full moon breaks through scattered clouds,
outlines the silhouette of dying
in pewter skies.
I remember the spill of blood in snow—
crimson drops. Mournful
dove, singing.

 

Violation–dVerse Open Link Night

Violation

When words force entry,
molest my every conscious thought—then,
surrender, I must, or endure unrelenting torture.

(Fire rages, outrages across our valley,
scorches acres upon acres of pine and cheat grass,
assaults, blasts, torments verdant mountain ranges.)

Words hound me without ceasing,
shove me from bed at 3 AM,
hammer, barrage, rape

(Deer, squirrels, bluebirds, bears flee
for safety, though flames overtake them,
devastate their habitat.)

serenity, rip it from my soul,
until I respond, rearrange them
on pure white sheets

(Ashes plunge into pristine waters,
hurl charred fragments, suffocate,
pollute, wash sepia across blue skies.)

of blank paper in my notebook.
Slowly intensity subsides
and I taste fulfillment.

(Last night a gentle rain showered
the Great Basin, purged the air.
Smoke will return, but this morn, we garden.)

 

Tonight is the popular Open Link Night at dVerse where both topic and form are up to you. I was unable to participate in the wonderful prompt for Poetics this week on muscle verbs so I decided to expand it a bit combining a poem about poetry with a poem about landscape.

While both Northern Nevada and Northern California are both experiencing multiple wild fires, most of which are due to human carelessness, we are currently not in danger, but the smoke does pour into Reno off and on. The worst is from a fire at a distance of maybe 150-200 miles near Yosemite in central California. Please keep our first responders in your prayers. They are going from one fire to another with very little sleep. Ironically, we did have some rain last night which resulted in flash floods in a community north of us.

The doors to the pub will open Thursday at 3:00 PM EDT

Image: CalamityMeg via Flickr

Image: sierrasun.com

 

The Sounds of Summer–dVerse Haibun

The Sounds of Summer
a Haibun

Last night, for the first time this year, we heard crickets’ song. Not that it hasn’t been hot. We are in the midst of record-breaking heat—37 days’ worth of temperatures in the upper 90’s or 100’s. My guess, though, is that smoke from the many wild fires in our area was subduing them. Or, more likely, until now, we couldn’t hear them because we couldn’t open our windows.

This morning I was greeted by the raucous sound of blue jays, asserting their command over the suet feeder in the pear tree. Robins sang counterpoint, defying stridency and filling the air with melody. The forlorn call of a dove echoed in the background. With thunderstorms predicted this afternoon, I pray there will be no lightning-induced wildfires. Open windows bring joy.

crickets sing freely
summer’s joy resounds above
deer flee raging flames

So happy to welcome Toni back to the pub with her wide-open haibun prompt. I chose to go with a situation that we are currently facing here in Northern Nevada. You have all week to join in!

Photo: afec.af
Labeled for non-commercial resuse.

The Poet Looks Out the Window

The Poet Looks Out the Window
Minute Poetry

Oh, bless this tree outside my room—
a home, a womb
where words are born,
a page adorned—
poet’s enclave,
creative cave.

These branches beckon many birds
with songs sans words.
They bring us joy,
distress destroy,
plaintive cries, too,
to mourn with you.

And there above, I spy a nest.
Robin Redbreast?
Perhaps a Jay?
Oh look! Today,
sweet finch I see.
Inspire me!

Photo: Victoria Slotto
View from My Office “Treehouse”

Today at dVerse MTB Frank Hubeny invites us to try Minute Poetry. Don’t be afraid of this very fun form. It seemed daunting to me at first, but when I diagrammed it, I found it to be easy enough with the help of Rhymezone.com. My ornamental pear tree looks a bit shabby right now because the harsh winter and severe winds was causing it to damage our house and we had to have it pruned. But when it’s at it best, in autumn, it is truly a delight and the migrating birds love the tiny pears that are just for them, not humans.

Please join us–give it a whirl. BTW, this poem is also inspired by Lillian’s window prompt from Tuesday Poetics.

 

Outside Looking In–dVerse Poetics

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Outside-Looking-In

Was it like this my entire life
or only since the years stole
in and swept away beauty and desire?

I stand here, watching shadows
of youthful joy and folly,
longing for a simple touch

or even the smile of a stranger
passing by me in Wal-Mart
as I walk slowly, using my cart as a cane.

They are so busy with their lives.
They have things to do and families
to raise and who love them. You are gone

now, leaving me to this darkness,
Gazing at life unfurling before me.
Sitting on my porch, watching

through the another’s window,
nursing memories and fears.
Waiting for death.

For Poetics at dVerse, Lillian would have us look outside or inside a window. The poem I’ve written isn’t about me, but it is something I have encountered so very often working as a nurse with, for the most part, elderly patients. Though I don’t feel old, I know age is sneaking up on me, so I begin to look at things more often from the perspective of the elderly. Please, don’t forget them!