Poetry, sunday whirl

whirlinwordle.cleanbutlate

114

sunday whirl: wordle 114

hanging the mess of want out to dry
tellurian text files pale in laundries lie
wrap around clouds waterfall answers

wooden clothespins constrain
coverings of complex colors
calling out clear
soft skin spoken words

clothesline convergence
gaslight deserted corner
black and white witness
class bell clangs

wet with washing
pale panting still
watching wind carried away
our ragged breath quiets

horizontal landscapes edge
small forest fusion
washday comes and goes

… small timeless notes…. last time i hung laundry out the bugs just about ate everything…. one of the leftovers from the eastest of east texas… younger living on the california coast hanging laundry was a breeze… the scent of ocean curling around my mind…. 

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SundayScribblings

here i am

the other day, i think it was tuesday afternoon, i realized i’ve been sleeping alone. happily roaming from side to side in simple satisfaction. when the prickly sheets became too familar i’d roll over to the other side, the quiet soothing sheets cool and crisp anticipating my sleepy warm body. peeking all along, reality radiates before me questioning my stinging surprise. i alone sans souci creating a collection of memories without a second thought. harvesting delineated colors casually registering the saturated brush on the crazy sometimes chaotic canvas of my existence. how could one be complete without the other terra incognita? curiously i could not help but to ponder, awakened from his slumber does he too wait for me to notice the unhurried element of emptiness. suppose we came close, nonchalantly heading our billowing sails into a different wind, shifting the cosmic kismet decree. a transitory waterway facing the next sunset we travel onward. you and i we wander undiscovered side by side. secret shadowed mirror smiling in sincerity reflects we’ve past once before.
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SundayScribblings No 124 topic: observation; photo: here i am…., Unfurled, flickr

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