Second Thoughts

Magnificent Photo by Peggy Goetz

I,
have tasted the wind
And pounded wild grass
Into submission
And heard a frisky mare
Next to my pen
While finishing my oats ration
You think you want to
Saddle me?
Think again...

This is offered up for the prompt from Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com, where Peggy asks us to write from an animal's point of view and provided this photo that inspired me on the spot! Thank you Peggy :-)

Bird Brain

When you're raised
With the smell of leather case
Snap of latch, and cold, hard metal
Of binoculars
Dog-eared bird books
As company in the back seat
Wonder surrounding all things avian
Is not questioned, it's like breathing

A reflex
To check a flash of feather
Pause and peer
Through light and leaves
Find that bird shape
Check markings and
Mentally file for
Later identification

Though
Most are known
Deposited during decades
Of watching parents point
And classify

Blue jay, Scrub jay, Stellar's jay
Mockingbird, Bushtit,
Yellow rumped warbler,
Tennessee warbler,
Red bellied woodpecker,
Downy Woodpecker,
Red tailed, Red shouldered,
Or Cooper's Hawks

My feet automatically stop
To watch any flock
Fly overhead
Shifting from shadow
To white or color

It's a love forever
Nested in my heart

This is written for the prompt at Poetic Bloomings  poeticbloomings.com  to write about a bird--With parents as birders, that is near impossible.  They are all wonderful to me and every time I see one, it makes my heart lift. Also shared for OLN at dversepoets.com, I'm a bit early, but the early bird....:-)

Cold Truth

Blame it on the
Cold
Or hot chocolate

Arrived at school early
Frozen from the walk
Left for 7-11 and
Hot choc-
olate  (ah!)
Thaw-
ed

Returned on time
But didn't hear the crack
Of the infrac-
tion

Called from class
And was blas-
ted for breaking a rule
I never knew

Lunch break
Serving time
Elbow to elbow
With twenty or so
Fellow
Trouble makers
Rule breakers
In front of Administration
Public humiliation
Was the goal

Instead, learned breaking
Rules
Didn't kill me
Actually fairly arbitrary

Fear of breaking rules
Forever Brok-
en

8th grade there was a rule that once you were on campus you had to stay. Didn't know that:-)  Really was a life changing moment. Even though I'd never done anything wrong, they treated me like I was a "bad kid" which really rankled my sense of injustice-- and then making us stand in a line, was ridiculous--and I didn't die...been breaking rules ever since...thank you to Dani at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com for the excellent prompt to write about breaking rules!

Wind Blown

When the wind

Blows

Through that

Wind-

dow

Sent that

Scent

From long

Ago

Made you

Won-

der, wist-

ful

That

Fist

Full of dreams

Where

Did they go?

A little melon-choly muse today. Got into some wordplay and here's where we ended up. Offered to Poetry Jam for “Danger” with quotes of the danger of not taking chances, and Poets United for Wonder for our favorite place—already wrote about that with my last poem, didn't want to raise your sodium level too high--so slid in a little wondering over lost dreams instead.   

Southern Comfort

Breathe

Slow Southern

Breeze

Sip

Melon-colored

Sunsets

And sleep

Between sheets

Of star-sprinkled

Skies

This is offered for Poetry Pantry--watching the wintry weather, thought I'd offer up a little warmth from the tropics--Enjoy!

Left for Good

Decades of mirrored reflections

My words unworthy

Shattered in a day

A click, a post, a blog

A comment

Twenty-twelve the year

Not good enough

Was left

So I could write

This is offered up for the prompt at Poetry Jam poetryjaam.blogspot.com by Peggy who asks us to write about what was left behind in 2012. This was difficult, almost gave up and then when walking the dogs, realized 2012 was the year I started my blog, started visiting poetry jam, poets united, and dverse poets. Starting a blog was a real leap of faith for me—thank you for helping me to leave “Not Good Enough” behind. Also, tied in a little reflection for the prompt at Wonder Wednesday where Kim asked us to write about reflections. Sometimes the mirror tells lies....

Good Grief

I bought cleaning products

And a coffee maker

Trash bags, toilet paper

Paper towels and

Bath towels

He knew how to clean

Just not with what

Loaded that 16 ft truck

Dad drove it

Mom followed it

For four hours

Until arrived in darkness

Hefted and hauled

Piling boxes, furniture in

His (really?) apartment

Of course he was on

The second floor

Cut himself on the ill-

Maintained door

Down to last and heaviest

Thing, my heart?

No-his mattress

Always thought I'd be

The exception

Glad hearted at the leaving

Instead, heart is grieving

Yet, it's what I wished for

A whole new world

For him to explore

Offered up tonight for Open Link Night at dversepoets.com—true story, Saturday moved my youngest son into his own apartment, where he'll finish school. Loved moving out when I went to school, figured I'd be able to channel that—wrong. Hard to let go and watch the struggle, but so necessary. Hence the title.  Someone hit his car, the water was turned off, the cable doesn't work, the landlord broke promises about internet access, and there was a whole greeting committee of roaches...reality via fire hose. :-) Cheers!