Week Nine: Last Howl

It’s never easy to say goodbye to a fuzzy child, so here is my dedication to a very beautiful, loving ‘wolf.’

Last Howl

It echoes in the night
Shattering the silence
A cotton tail rabbit dives into a hole
There’s a doe that stops, ears open
It comes again
A long note, held to the very end
Slipping across the shimmering snow
No wind moves the trees
No rustle of leaves to shade the call
Just the sound to fill the air
The silence
Brilliant, still, and a stab through the chest
All of nature holding its breath
A shared waiting
And then an answer
High above the trees
Ringing amongst the branches
To meet the other
A chorus of echoes and cries
Forming a symphony
For memory
One last call joined with others
A last howl in the night.

Week Nine: Fairy Door

Fairy doors was such a fun concept and there’s one in one of the conference/teacher’s office where I substitute teach a lot of the time.  For whatever reason, it inspired me.

 

Fairy Door

I’m just a fairy
Living in a door
A fairy door if you will
I see a new penny each day
And oh, the stories they bring
An old man gives for a wife dying in a hospital bed
A boy for the football player who won’t look at him
The new bride in hope they make it through the rough stuff
They come, leave their copper
And I listen for a while
There’s a little girl hoping for a pony
There’s a mother praying for a suicidal daughter
A college kid who just wants to pass the Econ. exam
Some are big
Some are small
But they matter to me
Like the dancer who broke her foot and is lost
Or the singer who just wants an audience
Or the IT guy who wants to be the next Steve Jobs (or Bill Gates)
I love hearing them
Laughing and crying with them
The young mother who only has a Medal of Honor for a husband
And the nurse who doesn’t sleep because she cares too much
Or the Cat Lady who has a heart ten times it’s size
They’ll never know
But I hear them
I keep their pennies with a little sigh
Pass their memories
Keep them alive
I’m just a fairy
Living in a door

Week 8: Foolish and Dreaming

Poetry is just pouring forth.  So far, so good in keeping up with the whole ‘write each week’ thing, less so in the posting part.

This one was inspired by The Little Mermaid.

 

Foolish and dreaming

It’s a foolish thought
A dream really
Of the sun beating down on my bare skin
Drying little drops of water
Up there, my eyes would squint
My hair would catch the wind in tiny strands
A voice would echo back from some dark cavern
I’d wiggle my toes
Bury them deep in the sand where it’s cool
There’d be fabric about my legs
Water to soak my feet from dancing
A room would be my own
No sisters to barge in without announcing
I could choose to ride far away with wheels beneath me
And no overbearing father to tell me, “no”
My heart would be free to soar amongst the clouds
Know what it’s like to be held but not coddled
Up there I would be know what these bits are
How they work and why they are
I would not hide
But this is a dream
With ships and bursting lights and storms at sea
Who is there to help me be
Just some dark shadow, dangerous and forbidden
That cannot be the way to the sunlight
It’s a foolish thought
That tastes so sweet
Just a dream, really
That threatens to overtake my soul
Has it already?