Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Hard To Breathe - Three Word Wednesday

Art from Deviant Art by Yonaz, Lurking Behind The Tree. Find more of this work clicking on the link.

Today is Three Word Wednesday. Click on the link to find that site. Thom has offered these three words: Menacing; Rampant; Unravel.

One day at a time.

I have been outside in Oregon's Willamette Valley noontide, careful to keep in the shade. The temperature today is a wonder. If you sink into reverie there is no temperature - neither too cool nor too warm.

I have a calico cat we call Celeste. When I sit still outside my basement door she will come and weave all around me, allowing me touches if I want. When she settles, though, she is typically just beyond reach.

The shadows drape across the concrete ways and change as the sun moves along. My position is on the north side of the house so once the morning sun has reached some height there is shade the whole day through.

I awoke this morning and found myself climbing out of a deep chasm. I am still working that out and it is past noon now. I am seventy in a few months. I think something sits on my left shoulder most days now.

It's Gotten Hard To Breathe

You can be so fey.

Slipping away you left sign,
aromas twining through
the wooly branches
and the half eaten shadows,
the leaves of the old
grapes which no longer
bear any true fruit.

Or false
for all that matters.

A menacing time
has come and threads run rampant
through my crooked ways.

I watched you unwind
and your hair did unravel
while a dry wind blew
through my heart's channels,
rattling places full of dust,
the dust time laid down
so very long ago.

I would tell you of my love
if that made any
difference between
the broken remains of stars
and rings of shattered
moons. This should change me
but it does not.

I know well
these ends of the dead.

August 26, 2015 1:12 PM


  1. The way of things

    Linger on my friend
    You have yet
    Much to give
    That old sitting tree
    Is gone now
    And your presence is missed
    That curb you sat on
    Most days still lingers
    Many there remember you fondly
    Even quoting you upon occasion
    But that is a flimsy substitute
    For the real you
    There is much I would discuss
    With you
    Quarks and gravity time
    And the way of things
    But to burden you
    I do not want
    Me with my frantic pace
    In life
    And you with your
    Quiet revere


  2. I might get back sometime. It is hard to move in the summer I find.

  3. Beautifully written but sad poem. Hey 70 is the new 50 !


    1. Not if you feel like me it's not. Sad to say.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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