The quilt of earth shields an
unborn silver plant.
The soil rejoices as it imagines
unified leaves topped
with a purple crown.
her empty canvas
sunrays on the mountain’s
for destination unknown
The west wind howls in the woods, uprooting plants, tossing their nuts, and bending powerful trees. The branches nod to the teasing wind as nesting songbirds hold tight until the wind sails away.
The west wind now pauses by the pink splendor of the woods. Mesmerized, it calms into a breeze and crawls over each stem.
As the pink flowers dance in delight, the breeze finds its way to a corner, resting on an undiscovered flower. The breeze melts into the flower, enchanted by its texture and fragrance.
west wind halts
to trace each pattern
in a pecan leaf
I stare at the ceiling, wondering if it is 1 or 2 PM. At the corner of the table is a kerosene lantern, not used for many years. I light it and walk into the night. The creatures of the night hush at the sound of footsteps, but the persistent buzz of a bee holds my attention. The bee hovers around a wild plant; an orange bud. The bud sleeps on, unheeding the bee’s buzz and noise. But, the bee does not give up. It sits on the leaves and bends towards the bud, shaking it. Suddenly, there is a loud hiss. It is not the bee, but the flower. It opens up to reveal a yellow inner part, further illuminated by the lamp. The bee moves home and rekindles in my heart the hope to live.
orange bud blooms
baby’s first word
“Caesar doesn’t belong with us, Sal,” Clare said firmly.
“Don’t do this. He’d never survive the predators.”
“Don’t deer co-exist with lions?”
“Caesar is domesticated.”
“We are forcing him into domestication.”
“But we treat him as an equal…like a human”
“Humans are not chained. We should let him go.”
They had come to the dense part of the jungle. Clare let Caesar down. He licked her hands and wagged his tail.
“Nobody owns you now, Caesar,” Clare said, softly, “You are free.”
Caesar heard a howl from afar. He took a few tentative steps, then ran into the wild.
This was written for the Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge.
End of spring
two bees cling
to a decayed flower
My E-Chapbook, Pinewood Hills, has been published in Proletaria. It contains haiku, one-line poetry and haibun. Proletaria publishes wonderful modern haiku and monostichs. If you like reading haiku and one-line poetry, do visit their site.
Do read and let me know what you think of my work. Here is the link.
moon and stars hidden
in her drawing note