in a dark place

you make the god you want, not of gold
or even paper, but green-warm earth—hail
it as something gifted from the blue.

what is your church? but this slate blue
mountain, bare slopes, trees brushed soft gold,
solitude, song; or fall’s sharp wind, rain, hail,

snow silence. eyes closed, face lifted to hail
pilgrim thought. no room for guilt in sky’s blue:
if the soul lights, burns ember-gold—

I am. (gold-hail prayer in this blue)

Thanks to Christine for the three tritina words.

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On a painting by Franz Marc

nature’s own masterwork
shading thoughts

(blue

*

i counted horses, dreamed
distant hill

red

*

taking fields for granted
hoof-beaten

green)

 

A new form for me–this is a series of three. Learn about the tilus, see the painting, and join the fun at Jane’s Poetry Challenge #42.

Delicates

I tried to take my mind off this hook of always smooth-correct, put together
dedicated caring upright faithful true, unselfish and nice but honest
that shape of trying warps the way a hanger stretches your sweater’s shoulder
so no amount of wash-cold-lay-flat-to-dry will fix it and now I remember
folding away in deep lavender-tucked drawers would be a better bet

 

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt challenges us to write loooong lines. Poetic Asides prompt is “take off.”