not-quite Journaling, 11
my wounded love—ragged wings
might be wholed by ink
needle and thread,
I stitched myself a wee bit
of art within art
4/15/2021: My first draft of this senryu read, “I stitched myself a surprise”. But “I stitched myself a wee bit” was too dark and humorously senryu(ish) to pass up (by the way, this is the back of my “Love understands / wild, weird, and me” blackout poem--2nd photo).
must, I will
be like a bat—adopt wings,
fly into your dark
4/17/2021: Today is the International Haiku Poetry Day and Bat Appreciation Day. So, of course, I had to write a love haiku. Fine, a senryu (but all senryu are haiku, so that’s cool) with a bat in it.
my tiny garden
and wee books
4/18/2021: Because the only thing better than a tiny garden in one’s bedroom is a tiny garden growing next to one’s tiny books. Every time I glance at these wee succulents, I grin with pure delight. I also love that they are a combination gift from my Piano Man and my Boy--one got me the plants and the other got me the shelf. I adore all of it (and them). What do you adore?
days I miss all
that springs in the countryside,
other days I see
New York City blooming wild
I would miss if gone.
I had to choose, I’d always choose
country living. Still, I know the city in April--flowers adorning brick
and mortar--is pure delight to see. More photos.
luring scent of loved books
(like the love of human souls)
touches the eye, the heart, the skin,
and stays within forevermore.
4/20/2021: There’s a high possibility that I have been rearranging my books--touching them, enjoying a random page or three, sniffing them--and grinning like a lunatic.
in the garden.
4/22/2021: It’s true, especially on Earth Day. Really, I know
I must put this blackout on a T-shirt.
- for Poets and Storytellers United--Writers’ Pantry# 67: Ecolinguistics.