Ashen grey

By Eva García-mayers

Photo by Pixabay on
Ashen grey, love
that was

white	snow
left to melt
upon the
	frozen meadow
faded photographs —
old diaries
	carved wood
	that once
	had meaning

lines as fine as Madame’s
greying hair
shed upon
	a pillowcase

rouge smeared
onto the cold	   pool
the looking glass
shafts of light
soak through

decaying	          skin —
falling in mottled sheets
silver–encrusted lips
kissing      	soft bark
a child’s boots tread
	beds of rotten leaves
hours vanish
mind.        	empty

	       sturdy beams
pale sky
open doubt
ivy garden

	eaves dripping
white oak and
	rain singing
across the wood’s
fine grain

This is the second poem by Eva García-mayers in this blog. Twice a month, her writing group has given me the energy to continue walking. And writing.

The flower of thought

By Eva García-mayers

Boat on a river before a bridge. Birds in the air and on water.
Photo by Yogendra Singh on
The Flower of Thought:
A dark petal of memory, 
wet roots—
A body rests 
against time. 
A loosening grace—
withered and soft bruises
blooming like clay
soothed into water. 
Half-made phrases 
dot the soil.
Winter slips away
into nothingness—
smiles and teardrops drift,
the sweet words of song ring.
Shining crows 
paint mean black rivers
into the soil.
A window 
against falling snow. 
Long-lost faces drip 
into the flat fields 
where I collect 
some of your warmer colors
into bouquets of quiet
drunken brightness,
loneliness trailing
my cautious steps
into the ebbing shadows.

This poem is by Eva García-mayers. I am grateful to her for many inspiring writing sessions in Zoom and in parks and public spaces of San Diego. She graciously gave permission to post some of her texts on this site.

I am hoping to be able to post more texts by other writers and poets on this blog. Texts by friends from writing groups. Texts that speak to me. And I am hoping: will to you …