Category Archives: North Carolina writers

Cute, Cute, Cute

I painted my toenails green today,

cute, cute, cute, I am, but

I might have

thought myself ridiculous

as recently as last year.

Today, I am the darling of the forest,

an adorable sprite,

a magically delicious green,

and cute, cute, cute.


When Waters Still

When waters still,

safe harbors
appear,

and I expand to fit the view
alongside those once drowning,

the recognized, and the forgotten,
who mirror me, and I them,

some salvaged souls,
granted a foothold in Grace

by waters stilled.

Grief is a privilege
and a promise.

I am become.


It is Calving Season

It is calving season

on the glacial field,

with groaning, writhing,

and violent births.

How massive, spectacular, and horrible.

it is

when landscapes are altered

by newborn weight,

releasing floods,

that drown

fault lines, failed lines,

sons and daughters

of the living God,

witnesses to

calving season

on the glacial field.

How massive, spectacular, and horrible

it is.


Mildewed Metaphors

flowers and snow drifts,
the sun and the moon,
mildewing metaphors
for heart and grave,
irresistible to poets,
shameless scribes that we be
for timeless reassurance.
Please, read them
to me.


Meadow to Glade

 

Short is the distance between meadow and glade.

Yesteryear advances,

with updates for a farther edge

 
while I replay moments

surrendered too cheaply,

in whereabouts unremembered, I now regret

 
how quickly I moved,

with less the shorter, in distances erased.

 


On Rattling On

Chatter, blather, blabber, ramble,
prattle, jabber, waffle, drone.

Deliver us from all this noise, dear Lord.
Relieve us from those who are loud, and constant.
Summon earnest conversations,
and ideas
with
integrity,
nuanced and elegant,
polished, complex.

Grant us relief from the noise, if you please,
provide us with something to dream by,
something extraordinary, something profound,
a hopeful swelling, blossoming and real.

Deliver us from the noise of the loud, dear Lord,
with deep exchanges among friends
often in silence.


Sorceress of Shadow Land

I am as powerful as the sun,
shaping day and night
with license
to menace,
or charm you,
the concert master of mood,

I can
throw light on mere bodies
to uncover spirits,
or more,
distributing breadth and depth,
immensity,
dimension.

I am an artist with a brush.
I am as powerful as the sun.


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