Whisper 


There’s a whisper of sadness in the crisp November air;

solemn raindrops adorn the bare tree branches 

like bejewelled tears.

The sun peaks out and smiles wanly

at the confused pink flowers 

which have emerged so late in the day…

How soon will the cold kill them,

turning their girlish blush into brown rot?

Memories creep closer like Christmas.

Loss hangs at the back of my throat—

waiting to pounce!

Sunning the Moon Belly

  

after a morning of spelling 
nursery rhymes
and writing practice
I take a moment’s break by myself
to sit on our garden bench in the sun

a tiny homeschool hiatus 
to sit quietly enough to hear 
the birds chirping and twittering
over the background hum
of city busses and summery lawnmowers
on this warm October morning

sun is supposed to be good
for this third trimester liver thing 
that has crept up on me again
so I expose my round belly
to glow like strange moon
blue veins faintly showing
in the bright sun

a small alien planet 
with the occasional surface ripple 
as the life within stretches and grows
just x-filish enough
to make me grin

We woke up on Mars…

  
This summer morning we woke to the strangest golden light emanating through the blinds…thick light and far brighter than it should have been for 8 am, but not in a usually perky morning sunshine kind of way…but heavy and strange.

We went outside to take a look. The clouds were oddly dark for the brightness of the air, and looked almost dirty, like a white blanket a kid had spilled juice on and then dragged through the sandbox. But the strangest of all was the sun. It was a perfectly round pink ball, and we could look right at it without hurting our eyes. My iPad couldn’t capture the huge, glowing pink eye in the sky…an apparition form Mordor!

“Maybe the moon stole all the light from the sun,” suggested my 5 year old. But when I looked up solar and lunar exclipses, nothing was reported. Maybe forest fires? Or maybe we really just woke up on Mars…and have become aliens in our sleep!