Sunday, May 29, 2016

The Dead Speak



"Góndola del tiempo", de Héctor Valdivia.
wikimedia commons



Families gather 
under sheltering sky, 
mourning their dead,
who passed
out and under too soon
toasting memory
with fried chicken and soda,
the heralds of summer..

We too
gather our baskets
and blankets,
a bottle of lemonade
and one of sweet tea
amid black breads
and stinky cheeses,
head for the beach,
climb rocks until our toes
find crabs scuttling
in angry protest
their fiefdoms
interrupted.


I have trouble mourning your dead
I have my own, 
refugees in unmarked graves.
I run from them
from the bombs and the smell of the dead,
their Slavic syllables
of death, a scree in the wind.


Our blood drenches, like yours,
only the land is different
and the way we remember.

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016


For Poets United



Wednesday, May 4, 2016

Secrets' Journeys




wikimedia commons
fractalmandala by Alexa Szlávics artist



i fell from the sky
on a mid-morning, white
as alabaster,

seeking out
the dreamless,
their void a door
left ajar in the night.

i can sail on the detrtis
of dreams unrealized,
their canons unwrit,

verses left muted.

in trees i can always dance
in the chatter of leaves
left to their own devices.

but instead, i found only you,
cocconed in the chaff left behind,
lies left unspoken.

shall we open our eyes
to see where we land?

copyright/all rights reserved Audrey Howitt 2016

Posted for Susan's mid-week motif prompt--Secrets at Poets United