#micropoetry

I was a poet before I was a writer. I swear my love of words will be my downfall.

I have this antique memory of myself, sitting on the long lawn outside the junior high school with a wind in my face and a Madonna notebook in my lap, absorbing the colors of a bundle of Fall trees, thumbing methodically through the thesaurus of my adolescent brain to adequately describe them . . . and realizing for the first time the power of words to collect an image.

Back then the payoff was just the pencil on the page, the accomplishment of getting the words down. Now I know the reason to collect the image is to let it go: to replay it for another.

Which brings me to this blog post: images I collected this month, inspired by an amazing group of Twitter poets who have reminded me that I was a poet first, and have challenged me to let the images go. Daily. In 140 characters or less.

____________________


iron rain
smoothing out the wrinkles

____________________


"I like your words." She
grins and looks away. Looks back,
and hands him her pen.

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inky sky
hot off the press

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constructing haiku
on a crumpled napkin
waiting for my change

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charcoal sky
waiting for a light

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shades and eyelids drawn
lips cast shadow
across Cabernet

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the streetlight and she
lost their buzz
about the same time

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Vacuuming the rug
she reflected: sweeping
something under it was
really
quite
simple.

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you
decant
me
pour me out
let me breathe

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She'd been through the wringer
but at least
she was
starched and pressed.

____________________


the day breaks
her

____________________


cold front cold-cocks
livestock
sucker-punches the prairie
lands its handprint raw
on my face

____________________


horizon
asks for a light
takes a
long drag
exhales second-hand sky

____________________

Tissues punctuate floor planks.
Mug sits cold and empty.
Dictionary is drained.