Posted in Poetry

Quake

A wave crests in the sidewalk
The cement rolls toward you
Reach for a tissue paper flower —
Her hand —
To steady you as it bubbles
Beneath your shoeless feet

It travels up your pant leg
A jitterbug tremor plants
Itself in the corner
Of your eye

Her laugh reminds you
That you never want it to stop.

© Jilly’s All Rights Reserved

Day 3

She & He #1

Posted in Poetry

Human Error

All of our blunders
our scarlet miscalculations
drop like debris,
fuselage plummeting
when Quietus
buys the seat
beside us

Mid-air, my love,
we meet
at last

Immortal blue above
boundless patterns
of geo-green
and brown
beneath

And we are
cast in robes
of amaranthine
In the eternal in-between

 

© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

The Finale for She & He and for the month of April.  On the 3rd day of National Poetry Month, a narrative began with the poem Quake. As many writers will tell you, it felt like the characters had taken me hostage and bid me write their story, so I spent this past month chained to my laptop in exchange for coffee and the by-line.  If you have not read the story of She & He, feel free to click on the above link to Quake and scroll through the poems.  To those who have been reading throughout the month – many thanks!  ~Jilly

Posted in Poetry

Migration

The stones smell hot after a rain
splitting themselves for the love of a stranger
who only expects to own them
swallowing them (w)hole
letting the sharp edges of ancient
glaciers and tribal villages
rend their soul into a million shards
of sand tossed beneath the waves
tumbling quaking ebbing in time with the August moon

 

© Jilly’s  All Rights Reserved

Sunday Whirl:  wave, tribe, edges, expect, quake, spit,(split)
stone, village, stranger, hole, (whole) own, swallow