PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

One Night at Sawmill and Leadmine Roads

I kicked my sandal across the patio.

I was tap, tapping my leg

To rid it of the cramp obtained from sitting,

My toe hooked the unfooted shoe

And sailed it to the sky.

No one noticed, I convinced myself, at the bottle shop’s

Picnic tabled front, not-really-a-front-porch, porch,

But that concrete area poured to the doors of a store entrance

In a suburban strip mall

Made cool by the vibrant Mexican restaurant

With Mariachi music and Day of the Dead string lights

And the Community Theater spilling out

Its ethnically diverse cast and cast of audience,

Black clad stage managers and production assistants

Mixed with The Art supporters and between-show actors,

Reviewers and podcast producers,

Friends and family at a preview showing

Of a local writer's work, thought provoking and timely.

My leg had cramped among all this talent

And I walked out into the warm September air

To stamp it out so I could return to offer

My accolades without a grimace.

Instead, I kicked my sandal to the sky. 

Spring Came Regaedless

I am digging in soil right now,

Planting plants I bought months ago.

Months ago when I had enthusiasm for spring

I bought plants with my granddaughter.

On a sunny day in March

She picked out the prettiest ones 

not suited

For my sandy soiled landscape of no sun.

But we bought them,

Brought them home

Placing them near a bright window 

Per the gardener’s instruction,

Waiting for the warmth, but...

Then it got cold...

then I went on a cruise...

then I said hell they will die anyway...

then they didn’t...

so I’m planting them,

Bless their little green hearts,

well into Spring, nearly summer,

In my sunless, sandy patio garden.

There is a bird’s nest in one of my pots.

Spring came regardless. 

Competition for a Heart

Competition for a heart, she made 

her way down the hall.  Checking

doors and windows to be sure no one

gets inside.  Stuffing her hands deep

in her pockets, avoiding touch and

caresses.  Marking heel scuffs on the 

floors.  Picking lint from her fingers

she lifts her hands to pray.

Competition for love keeps 

the sunlight out.  Drapes of heavy damask

mask the need inside.  Drawn and

pulled with her praying hands, she

cries into the fabric.

Competition for her heart has  long

passed.  She breaks the brocade and

peeks outside.  Happy couples

coupled by their limbs.  Intertwined in

soft possession.  Gone for her now.

Gone.

gentle kisses

gentle flutter kisses,

taste and feeling,

shimmer through senses,

shivers down her spine,

to her toes

up to her heart

out through her soul

into his,

all in the gentle 

flutter, of

kisses