Skiff

July 18, 2021 by leximagines

A pink umbrella floats across water upside down right side up reflection a masked woman her partner saunter lotus floats edges ripple into shapes unknown just reflections Emma’s shoes drop bag opens an escape of used tissue tumbles with breeze no longer confined finally free Emma lowers bottom placed on cemented edge toes submerge into cold no excuse from early morning rain door opens through threshold a pink umbrella upside down floats a skiff holding promises forgotten floats away Emma wiggles her toes through the door a threshold a marigold sea of petals remembers golden sun and sweet scent of bloom a pink umbrella carries away excuses pain rememberings upside down filling too full Emma watches sinks below waterline under lotus pad into murky substance a place to break down become that which feeds new growth from murky substance repaired Emma’s toes curl stretch sprout vines reaches into murk feeds from what she once knew now reconstructs releases lets go gives in grows new bud precious bloom turns to sun’s face warmth color bright graceful
Emma transformed

Pluvia

September 24, 2017 by leximagines

leafand raindrop.jpg

There’s something
about the first rain of fall
when it comes, finally, to fill
in the cracked earth of
summer’s heat

A mollifying, reminding one
that change will come,
regardless, and without
our doing, or undoing

As we circle and spin,
we transform
by our living, re-shape by
what passes over and
around and through us

There is no control, none
really needed, just patience
and some stillness
to sanction the interval
until drops upon the roof
announce their arrival

Culture of Me/3

May 30, 2017 by leximagines

Eggshells pile
in a bowl on a counter
next to a tin.
The day broke open.
Sun wrinkles through the cracks,
glows like yolks
no longer in residence.
Just a reminder –
we have more
to do,
always.

Crows complain
like an old married couple,
or
do they warn us on
yesterday’s storm washing
away
that which is no longer
needed.
Just a brief –
a constant one,
we are not
in control.

James Taylor aches in
the background, a
harmonica in harmony
with him of days past.
Remember –
the wheel turns and
returns,
and once again
we recycle and protest
and call to action.

Wind skims down the slanted roof
whirring through long chime pipes,
carrying with it
leaf bits
beaten off tree limbs in
last night’s hail.
They flutter, scatter in cadence.
This, too –
squall brings change,
transformation into something
new.

Who said faeries and elves don’t exist?
I wonder –
on my moss rock,
mushrooms abloom in leaf mold,
and fiddleheads tickling
my toes.

Author’s Note:

About once a month our writing group converges. We eat and laugh. We catch up. And then we write. Today, we were at Niki’s house. There were treasures to be found by my iPhone camera. Thank you, Niki, for leaving the eggshells.

As tradition demands, there are prompts to be pulled from an envelope. We can ignore it if we choose. Or choose another one. We’re loose like that. And we each throw in a word to be included. Which can be. Or not. We write for a little over a half an hour. When the bell rings, we leave some time to “finish up.”

We’ve been at it for over seven years now. And today we were seven ranging from nineteen to sixty-three. Grandmother, dancer, Naval Reserve, ELA teacher, retired and soon-to-be, and black belt. Among some of these things that we are, we revel in one another as writers and women of the world.

This is our culture.

My prompt:
Who said faeries and elves don’t exist?

Our words:
ordinary, magnanimous, teenager, mushroom, doubt, candid, slime

Patience

April 28, 2017 by leximagines

Day Twenty-Eight

Snow Tree3.jpg

In spring flowers are to bloom,
buds to burst with life,
sun to warm ground
awakening that which slumbers.

Here snow aligns itself along
reaching limbs, arcing to ground
in acceptance of something that
cannot be controlled, bending in
accommodation, knowing softness
is cardinal and warmth retraces
its steps.

I pause for season to shift, for
sun or snow to answer. I bow
to you, and rest avowed
in transformation.