Oddments

In search of story


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September 5.19

There is yearning

in the looking up.

The unattainable,

marbled with secrets,

lures.

The gulls

in swooping arabesque

mock me with their indifference.

But still I reach.

There is that dream —

you know the one? —

Alone,

I soar,

scared and joyful,

lifted not by wings

but

(I think)

 by self.

 

 

Thanks to photographer S.W. Berg for this beautiful capture.


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Connections: July 13

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERAYesterday was sticky hot

the air was thick as mush

but I had to grab my camera

and get out there in a rush.

This visitor, this summer sprite,

this unabashed  flirt,

demanded my

attentive eye

and mud upon my skirt.

But would he alight, becalm his wings?

Sit still for just a

mo?

No!

He just kept whirring

blurring

flitting to and fro.

I chased that Casanova

’round marigold and bee

and wondered if my neighbors

had a butterfly net for me.

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Connections: April 26

SANYO DIGITAL CAMERAMy neighbors’ yards bejewelled

by April cloisonne

— tulips’ dazzling hues

bowing in the May —

shine more brightly

than does mine

with shyly clever

columbine.

In canny metamorphosis

it changes jester hat

for coronet of wings —

a tulip can’t do that!

As spring gives way to summer

and tulips sag to brown

my columbine laughs last

in green and ruffly mound.

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