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!

simplicity–dVerse Haibun Monday

Photo: Max Pixel Labeled for Non-commercial reuse.

simplicity

the echo of your words
the haunting emptiness
of promises not meant
the lies that steeped in
darkest night ring loudly
clashing with the sweet-
ness of your voice, your
smile, your tender touch

i cleave to gentle, simple
things in these last years

Today De invites us to share a quadrille, a poem of exactly 44 words excluding title, with the poetry community at dVerse. Please join us for this fun prompt here. The word to include this week is ECHO, in any form you can conjure up.

Spring Eternal–dVerse Quadrille

Spring Eternal

She’d lost the spring in her step,
(it’s true.)
But the twinkle in her eye,
mischievous,
kept her young—
an icon of joy.

“It’s love,” she told me,
“only love,
that makes me who
who I am.
No winter in this heart
of mine.”

Photo: David Slotto
My mother at age 90-something.

Kim is hosting dVerse Quadrille today asking for a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding the title, using the word SPRING in any of its forms. I was a bit surprised where this one took me. We would love to see you join us for the prompt that is available to you all week.

of a pristine october morn

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

of a pristine october morn

blue glass sky, cloud-
less, diamond dew-studs,
shimmering hoar frost

leaves blush at branches bare
bold crickets cry frantically
singing last-chance choruses

a flagging rose scatters petals
before winter’s advent
and i watch life slip
from between my fingers

Written for Kim’s Quadrille prompt at dVerse Poets’ Pub–asking for a poem of exactly 44 words, using the word cloud.

Seamstress–dVerse Quadrille

Seamstress

She sits in her window,
in the old white rocker,
sewing shadow-memories
into a cohesive whole.

She’s alone now—
no one with whom to share
beauty, the texture of her life,
peppered with pain and giving.

Sunshine seeps through
half-opened blinds.
Still she waits.

Photo: Wikipedia Commons--Labeled for Non-commercial reuse.

Photo: Wikipedia Commons–Labeled for Non-commercial reuse.

A second Quadrille for De’s prompt at dVerse Poets’ Pub…a poem of 44 words, using the given word SHADOW. Please join us.

My original response to this prompt is here.

(De)Composition–Haibun Monday

Oh, please visit dVerse for today’s exquisite Haibun prompt, offered by Toni (Kanzen Sakura). This will be your last chance to enjoy her hosting for a while as life invites her to take a break. Life does not let us escape CHANGE, does it! 

Photo: Victoria Slotto

Photo: Victoria Slotto

(De)composition

At night the temperatures fall into the upper 30’s or lower 40’s. Here and there I spot a tree that’s gilded gold or swathed in vermillion glory. In my mirror, however, autumn cedes way to early winter. Youthful energy wanes. Skin bears etchings, scars that remind of the battles of life, survived. But spirit-youth prevails, fills the heart with joy, a heart that soars at the sight of her loved ones, rejoices in the presence of friends, tastes the Divine. As winter slowly invades, it brings change. Life, like the bare branches of trees, becomes simple. Above ground, much of the goings-on, the life-surges, may not be at all apparent to others. But growth flourishes, deep within. Wabi-sabi.

branches appear dead
root tendrils stretch out, nourish
into fertile soil

what is your wish–dVerse Poetics: Wishful Thinking

what is your wish?

this morning as we walked
i saw a tree that bid to me.
i balked

not any more i told her
not with these old bones
and not-so-limber limbs
of mine

if you will come she said
caress my branches
smell my fractured leaves
you will be young again
begin

to taste your life anew
to run and jump and fly
with careless ease
if so you please

what is the cost I asked
were i to rise
into your textured world
(it tempted me)
you’ll flee

the confines of your age
you will begin once more
your journey on this earth
new birth

and lose all i have learned
the ones i’ve come to love
the memories
and yes
the pains and losses too
that nurture growth
i’d loath
to go through that again

forward, i walked in calm
i would not lose
the truths
i’ve gleaned along the path
of life
in spite of strife

Photo: Wikipedia Commons--Labeled for non-commercial reuse

Photo: Wikipedia Commons–Labeled for non-commercial reuse

Today at dVerse Poetics, Mish invites us to indulge in wishes. My response is a bit oblique. I have wishes, true, and they are precious. But so is aging, and that is where my muse wandered. I tucked in a bit of scattered rhyme, still enjoying the latitude that Walt’s prompt from last Thursday offered. No pattern. Just whatever happened. Oh, by the way, I grew up climbing trees.