in the eye of the storm

fire is gone from your

     eyes

you, caught in tangle of fallen

     spires

have lost your sparkle, twinkle
  
    and stamina 

i don't want to know

    more than I need to

Inside, I'm also speared  

   shell in limbo

i 'm trying to find our ocean, 

    but the netting is heavy rope

in the flickering candle-

    light




Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Theme is Limbo, by guest blogger M.   It is also 55 words, in honor of the late G-Man.   Thanks for the visit.

torn from the white sky

                                                           

By Alexis Arnold

white-washed by night
i fall headlong, torn
from the sky

a solitary leaf,
muted white by snowflakes &
icy northern wind

weaving an intricate
dance of death, slow waltz--
parry and thrust--  

until arms become 
stones, white crystallized to stillness- 
the moon, perched 

on window seat,
ghosts under shadows, whiter than white-

you're too late

 
   
Poetry form:  Lune - 3-5-3 word (almost)

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - 55 white words for Flash 55 Plus
And Poets United

Searching for lavender

Lavender Fields in France

I search for words sweet as pink tulips 
fragrant lush from fields of lavender
their colors blossoming under summer sun
weaving calming spell of quiet lake
But alas
I am standing, squashed sideways, like
a fish
caught by early morning pandemonium 
hardly breathing, as trains stalled in tracks
Outside, winter snow piles on and on-





Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - 
Transforming Friday with Hannah- Lavender and 55 Words following Robert Herrick word stanza- 
Shared with Poets United ~

Notes:   Last Thursday morning, my train commute took an hour longer as trains were delayed due to emergency services ~ Normally it's just a bearable 30 minute ride ~  
Have a good weekend ~

Moving on

She knots two garbage bags containing clothes and letters and puts them on the road curb.  

Putting on her helmet, she revs the bike's engine.    Black birds skitter above street wires.  
Soon, the wind is whipping static from her hair.    

Sky is dusky grey but all she sees is night, awakening sleek as a panther.



~0~0~0~


Shoe box is full of letters
frail as ancient tree
with sleeping flowers

I pluck to read one
remembering why I kept it
But the words fold into
themselves

barely moving 
an empty boat
shadowed by lake pines

Throwing the box away
I watch by window

As wind spits its seeds
and whitens the sky- 

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Flash 55 Plus - 55 Words in fiction and poem
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~

Photo credit:  Tumblr 

Nightingale

By Fire Painter, Steve Spazuk

To fire painter

Draw me out of flames

Smoke streaking the air

Where there is darkness

Let your feather brush silvers

From out of soot & toxic air

Move your hand 

Etching my face, bones

To life until I am a bird

Singing at night 

Free of poisoned chemicals

Warbling of joy

To gentle moon

Note:  Steve Spazuk works are a reaction to the heavy use of pesticides in North America and the consequential poisoning of insect-eating birds.

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - 55 Words - Hosted by MamaZen

And Susie's Prompt:   Nightingale 

Shared with Poets United

October rust

Painting by Brad Kunkle

I am restless tonight while shadows are obsessed with shape of the lamp.

The moon wears raven mask and comes into my room with glass of water.

She sits and reads the book while I bury my emptiness in a lacquered box.

Language arrives with new set of colours - wheat, rust and nest of bones.  

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads - 55 Words
and Poets United - Thanks for the visit ~

Night guides

Photography by Kylli Sparre

your words are faint memory
      ivory & indigo
cooling down my fire-lit sky to
     autumn shade:

rust-orange mums
    & flaring-red leaves on ground 
appear, converging
    at appointed month, hour
     
and what of me:

i let night sieve me 
  
    liquid 
    spilling into lake
    that knows no seasons   

    clustering dreams
    larger than my two hands can hold-

Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads:    55 Words and Kerry's Challenge:   Where do you go to?
And Poets United  - Happy Sunday ~

Two subway train vignettes

In train crowd, there's always one firecracker
Everyone avoids like sudden gust of cold wind


Today, it's an earnest young man pleading for coins
But his speech is stump by megaphone 
announcing a derailment on northern station.


He steps out the train.   I hear distant sound
of rain flinting the concrete steps as door closes.      
 

~0~0~


She is counting, not the platform stops
but knots & turns of her crochet needle-

The red yarn is net of fishes
or stars    

It's hard to say
with her fingers trilling to a robin's song- 




Posted for Imaginary Garden for Real Toads - Kerry's Challenge
& 55 Words Challenge
& Poets United

Thanks for the visit ~