Saturday, 10 February 2018


by Donna Joy Kerness

Again, it must be Spring
here in Texas……
no denouement of frost,
only the air swollen with fragrance,
pieces of flowers peeking
above the dry earth

The slow and easy silence
before the cicadas,
cannas, waiting to be Golden Kings.
The dry earth

What kind of blushing sunset is this,
pasted against the endless Texas Sky,
descending as a vast, quiet, pink lady
pouring neon into a hot balmy night ?
The dry earth

Several hours of dawn flock impatiently
urging me to move into this New Day

I’m a Robot, in clay shoes
lifted as the sun, an orange disc on fire
slid down the black sky,

crickets cackle
grasping for the sun……
All of a sudden
I have to be somewhere……

No comments:

Post a comment