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.

The Same Darkness

We’ve tried to measure this pit
pace it bit by bit
and examine, and not fear

its black pool. Could we submit
trammel soul to fit—
nothing? For nothing wells here

we slip, fall, fail again; quit
strife for dark (fine grit
of hope chafing deep, unclear)

 

An asefru for Yeah Write’s June poetry slam.

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.”