“This is a series of short poems I will write over time”

(I)

poetry is autumns tree

with her crown of auburn and gold.

listen as the soft wind weaves

through her hair

and her whispering story is told.

 

(II)

poetry is the ailing father,

brother, uncle, son.

his shrinking form re-tuning the strings

of our hearts

as we sit and wonder what could be done.

 

(III)

poetry is paint on the brush

and the molding of wet clay.

anticipating something new as we

hold our breath

and create beauty in our own way.

 

(IV)

poetry is a dry throat

and the furious thirst it brings.

tilt back the cup of expression

and drink deep

so restored voice can finally sing.