Levi’s Blues

The soft blue of a midday sky
blowing hot over golden corn.

.                           .— Or indigo
(formal, crisp, new),
deep as starlit night.

Shallow I may be,
but I’ve looked everywhere
that sky
and those stars
for the manufactured perfection
only Levi knows.



Rainbow Theory

My heart races. Quick to anger, I stop and breathe in the moment – just one moment, mine – try to taste the sweetness in the calm I’m reaching for.

That moment is elusive.

It hides in a rain drop, in a sun ray.



Just one way I was inspired this week by the Yeah Write prompt.



If ever we should meet

On this side of the sky
the grey rain-heavy clouds streak by
and I wonder
if they are moving
or if it is me.

On this side of the river
the sun shines through sunken gardens
and I wonder
if I am the fairy tale,
if that other realm
is real.

On this side
I am still
while the clouds streak by
while the current stirs river weeds.

I am on this side
but you
you are on the other
and it is worlds away.




Wagon-red memories of childhood trundle down ore-rich earthen paths, disappearing in clouds of what was, leaving wisps of dreams and clips of songs to fade on the summer wind.

I could still be that girl in the wagon, lemonade sparkling in sunlight.


Magic Carpet Dreams

In daydreams light, carefree,
my childhood gardens wait
fern-laced with petal clouds
and sun-bronzed butterflies.
By watry shores I pause
where Sunday families stroll,
the golden sun-flecked air
of memories in reach.
Here fairytales were spun
‘mid broken trees and gorse
the crimson cardinals sang
and ivy strung up walls.
Do butterflies still light
‘pon families who stroll
while cardinal songs ring out
behind tumble-down dreams?
These stories of past lives
I plumb; the scents, the sounds
of forty years, to wisk
me ‘cross the shadowed breach.