Ashen grey

By Eva García-mayers

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
Ashen grey, love
that was

white	snow
left to melt
upon the
	frozen meadow
 
faded photographs —
old diaries
secrets
	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
feather-light
	beds of rotten leaves
 
hours vanish
mind.        	empty

	       sturdy beams
clean
pale sky
	      windows 
 
open doubt
growing
	moss
ivy garden
	touching

	eaves dripping
white oak and
	rain singing
names
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.

Haiku 1

Painting by Jim LePage http://www.jimlepage.com/

Twirling in orange
Sacral flows down and up and
Ajna seeing blue 

In my writing group on the weekend, the prompt was to look at the painting and write a haiku. If I remember right, this is my first haiku — ever. I asked Jim LePage, and he graciously gave me permission to use his painting on my blog.


If you have the interest, time, and energy to read more of the Just texts you find them in blog order on this website. Please comment on what you associate with them, what you like, what you dislike, what you read in them, how they make you feel …

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