burn scars
absentmindedly scanning the landscape
for rubble and char
catching the thought
…so this didn’t burn…
a thousand miles from fire
the way I think
…where’s her mask?…
watching an old movie
fire’s burned its way into my psyche
like pandemic terror
like checking every black shape here for condor
or every sunny drizzle seeking rainbow
after the trifecta
after all these days weeks months years
we still genuinely like each other
(harder to achieve than loving)
for this and all the other joys
that have come along with
these three main lights in my life
may I always feel grateful and blessed
even in dark hours
mine or theirs or ours
you’d never give up on me
he says
no, I wouldn’t
I agree
may it always be so
even when the road’s nearly washed out
and the lightning’s going sideways
and the rain’s a perpendicular blur
there’s always the distinct possibility
we’re headed straight toward rainbow
This is in response to a prompt from Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s webinar Nature as Inspiration and Transformation: An Intro to Nature Poetry: make two columns – lovely nature and not-so-lovely nature. What are the first three things that come to mind for each? Write them down under the appropriate heading. Now write a poem: I don’t want to be the [choose one lovely nature item]. I’m more a [not-so-lovely item].
slime mold over the rainbow
I don’t want to be the shiny rainbow
to sing out Everything is going to be OK!
even though the thunder and lightning
just washed what we know away
I don’t want to be primary-hued hope and cheer
to mislead the bedazzled into searching for a false pot of gold
I’m not here to break dull antiseptic white
into all the lovely shades embedded within
today I’m more the slime mold
dragging myself over the filthy lumpy mud
following a quiet call I can barely detect
searching out the others in our tribe
joining together to grow larger and stronger
trusting in transformation
moving together to a new safe place
with no map or plan to guide us
leaving the hateful violent floodplain behind
forming spores that will someday sow clouds
