Saturday, February 20, 2010
The backs of eyelids pursue an
ever-falling wisdom of dark on
dark. Black spirals wind and even
Genius struggles to form a
meaning from the dizzy shades of
black and light—
or is it only Genius who tries?—
These gasping eyelids pursue
illumination even in the
shallow tides, the lucid sides,
Only infinity stretches, dawdling,
within each cell of
Day’s loyal lovers.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
BY EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY
By Sharon Landstrom (me)
Thank you, April, for returning again.
Beauty is enough.
Your plethora of lively flowers and trees
Quiets my heart easily.
I know what I know.
The water is cool on my back as I listen
To the cadence of the waterfall.
The susurrus wind feels good.
It is the ripple of life on my skin.
For how long have I been sitting here?
Lost under the sun We are together,
Separated only be leisurely love.
Life in itself
Diaphanous sky, fresh sigh of light after a long winter.
It is enough that yearly, from the rain,
Comes crying out flowers, laughing eloquence with death.