Tuesday, February 21, 2017

The Silent Muse

silent among shards, she sits
scrawling messages
for the brave

the initial shock
of beneficence
mistaken in a shaded hallway, as

rudderless quips
f l o w
each tethered more closely around
the violence that spins
isolated
in a hurricane's eye

      waiting
for me to pick
any shard

and scrawl with her




copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

Thursday, February 2, 2017

colorblind



Morgue File
Lauramusikanski



grey is the color of limbo
sifting our lives on scales
where sand has no meaning

grey is the color of sin
left out in the snow
too long to know its shape

grey folds itself into
origami cranes of death
peace its only equivalent currency

can we wait for the sun to rise again
its light, a mitigation
a blurring of color

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

Posted for Poets United Pantry and for dVerse OLN


Wednesday, February 1, 2017

Hospital Lessons



i learned about humility
and hope
watching those
who take pain away

watched their duty
shed grace
as easily
as lifting an arm

applying ice
to wounds new and old
so that this old body can rally
once again.


copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017


I am back from the hospital after a full hip replacement. And am amazed and grateful at the care I have and am receiving.



Tuesday, January 31, 2017

politico #1

we know this
that a house divided
cannot stand

but tears
and anger
can act as glue

at least for a while

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017



Sunday, January 8, 2017

January Afternoons




MorgueFile


light is long on short days.
our eyes are drawn to it
measuring out its warmth
stretching its path
on wooden floors
from one room to the next

i will its heat
inside me
warping planks
pulling up nails
transfixing eyes

late afternoons are like that
its just the nails
that I am not too fond of
anymore.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

Posted for Poets United Pantry

Sunday, January 1, 2017

New Year's Edits

cursors have a mind of their own
bounce from end to end
edit thoughts 
as i type blind

caffeine fix
not yet taken hold

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2017

A bit of lightheartedness of this new year's morning.

Posted for Poets United


Monday, November 28, 2016

The Language of Pain




Art by Audrey


pain is the whistle between my teeth
on cold mornings when dew lies heavy

pain is the woman whose blood runs
chasing her children
knowing she will never catch them before
time runs out

pain is the mill we grind
pulling it round
to spot ourselves a $5 or a $50
to pay that last bill

pain is the language
we speak
when we forget the others

it speaks in the clearest tones
from the jar on my tongue

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Posted today at d'verse