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Micro poetics

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For a couple months, I briefly re-opened (and then closed!) a tw!tter account simply so I could play with words there.

I enjoyed the word count limit – it asked me to pare down some longer poems to their most potent pith. Here are my favorites…

Deep in the dark<br /> Of earth's mantle<br /> I am molten lava<br /> Formless<br /> But still<br /> Waiting<br /> Dreaming<br /> Singing<br /> Breathing<br /> When at last I erupt<br /> I will be diamonds
It's good to stay alert<br /> for the shifting winds<br /> Stay flexible<br /> like that tree out there<br /> Stripped bare, naked<br /> so she might bloom again<br /> Tonight is quiet<br /> and the mist gathers<br /> Soon wind and rain<br /> and a tumult of trains<br /> Keep listening
The wind. she is silent<br /> But everybody talks to her<br /> Everybody is an instrument she<br /> plays<br /> Are raven wings beating<br /> one of her favorite songs also?<br /> Or cottonwoods shimmering?<br /> Now the world is a thin song<br /> Frozen still<br /> And occasionally a deep howl
Underground<br /> An obsidian black river<br /> carries down the stars<br /> To be buried as seeds<br /> for next year's garden<br /> Some will explode<br /> Some will fizzle<br /> Some may rest for awhile..<br /> If you were a star<br /> How deep<br /> would the river carry you?<br /> And can you be still<br /> and wait?
I am a girl<br /> in winter's garden<br /> Measuring out meager rations<br /> that feel like feasts<br /> For those small moments<br /> of shared beauty<br /> Song of a bird<br /> Swirl of the kitten's fur<br /> A shimmer of warmth And then night<br /> Long, contemplative night
Slow winter yoga<br /> Followed by sips of whiskey<br /> Must keep the sap flowing<br /> Even if slowly<br /> So that I may bend<br /> in that stern, frozen breeze
I want to greet the birds with singing<br /> My compatriots in bringing joy<br /> simply by being themselves<br /> in a world that longs<br /> for the freedom<br /> of both song and flight
Moonshadow naked limbs<br /> spider their way<br /> across the bare clay<br /> Every which way they reach<br /> their ghostly arms southward<br /> to claim their stretch of night
A mantle of shadows<br /> shakes down from low clouds<br /> rests heavy on my shoulders<br /> like a sealskin<br /> Now I can dive into<br /> even the winter sea<br /> waves wild and sharp<br /> with the striking smash<br /> of all we've known<br /> The ocean claims her own
As of yesterday<br /> The juncos have started singing<br /> their spring song<br /> Proud chested little things<br /> Trills in the trees<br /> Life seeking life<br /> Another year begins
Sometimes no growth appears<br /> But really, all life is in the roots<br /> Strengthening connection<br /> with the ground<br /> Seeking deeper for water<br /> Holding onto soil and stone<br /> Hunkering under where it's warm<br /> Do plants yearn for springtime?<br /> Or do they just do what it takes,<br /> each moment complete?
Have you ever tried to force open an unfurling leaf?<br /> A bud or blossom before its time?<br /> That's a quick route to sudden death.<br /> Slow down<br /> Plant seeds<br /> Tend the true pace of things

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All written in the southern New Mexico desert

by | Mar 5, 2023

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