Again

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Day Thirty, the End

 

Mohter River.jpg

 

I call it big water, the ocean.

It was a year ago today I walked
near crow picking out his mussel lunch
along the bight. Sand and shell
placed gingerly inside my empty coffee cup,
my way to keep a part of him,
remember he was gone.

I discover in loss
the hole, like that black round
left by moon in night when she is new,
cannot return to full as we once were.
Hollowness must replenish slowly,
in new ways, just as moon waxes crescent.

. . .

A sand-hued box tied with gossamer ribbon,
color of the growing gibbous moon.
Inside a woman sings,
Mother River, running her
song, flowing to ocean,
reminds me of my
connection here to there,
big water.

. . .

She hands me a calcite globe,
heavy, creamy yellow
as if full of moon light.
A memory stone to place inside
the blackened cavity,
to remember, to hold
in comfort, to illumine
when all seems lost.

. . .

Today I stand under
waning moon, attempt
to grasp, hear again his laughter,
catch his smile flash where sadness rested.

. . .

Our loop around that hot
bright ball tempered with
night and glowing light
that comes and goes
and returns again,
the river that runs to
kiss ocean tide and flow
to sea once more,
a broken heart mended scarred,
a refitted life begins anew,
all the rhythm of our dance.

 

Author’s Note:

To C.J. and Michael and Lisa

Simple

Day 17: Peace Poetry Postcard Month

shell

 

 

Only a half shell, creamy white
tinged with purple blush on one side,
a right fit for my palm.

A simple remembrance
of a powerful tide –
slow, steadily inching
its way to me.

Silently, I stand with
that peace of you in my palm.
Divine that I, too,
am a meager piece of you
held in your beloved palm.

Farewell

I will not be able to post tomorrow, the final day of NaPoWriMo, so tonight it is.

Day Thirty
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FarewellFarewell

Yesterday, in exit, the sun
covered itself in silky
storm clouds
leaving me behind without
a bright or cheery farewell,
just a faint remembrance
of sweetness that once was.

I will not leave you
solitary on your journey.

I will write to you of
brilliant dawns and whispered kisses.
Words in envelopes sealed
with lilac glue to remind you
of me under billowy clouds of
lavender May blossoms.

And I will sing of you, so true and dear,
on wings of sparrows you will hear
a remembrance of my
love for you.

.

.

.
Author’s Note:

And with this, it is the end of another season of a poem a day in the month of April, a month for poets to lavish themselves in words.

Thank you for visiting. I hope you will stop by once in a moon or so.

After all, we poets never fill of our passion for words and sharing.

Peace and much gratitude,

Lexanne