Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Calliope's Carousel - 4. April 28th - April 31st
28. To the Green
All the world has gone green—
the grass and forest floor,
new budded rose bushes,
rising peas and parsley,
old stones and fallen trunks
with new moss coats to wear,
and spear-sprouted iris
from their old, gnarled rhizomes—
every tree and flower
waves spring’s royal banner,
adorned with their accents
like purple for vinca,
grey for sage and hemlock,
and trout lily’s bold yellows,
all shouting for the bees’
distracted attentions
in a rising green sea.
29. Clouds
Just one cloud
cannot float on its own
without looking about for its friends
to summon them on the west wind to race the sun
across a rain-washed, crystal blue sky
and wrestle in a pile
on the ridge.
~~
Before the sun has any thought to rise
the clouds their calculus begin to weigh
and from the wind’s direction they surmise
what fortune they might bring below that day.
Perhaps they dream of drifting without aim,
bereft of need to carry rain or snow,
or possibly an afternoon-ish game
of threatening an epic lighting show.
I wonder if your visions are like theirs,
by idleness or flashing rage designed,
but better stripped of all our worldly cares
that we might be to one embrace inclined.
Like clouds that settle into earth’s caress
let us, entwined, each other’s body bless.
30. A Melville Sea Song
How wide is the water,
how far must I go
to find my dear true love
in a world full of woe?
Oh, wide is the water,
Oh, deep is the sea
To search out his castle
Where e’er it may be.
How wide is the water,
how far must I sail
to find my love’s harbor
far away from the gale?
Oh, wide is the water,
the journey is far
where it’s safe from the storm
you must follow his star.
How wide is the water,
how swift is the tide
that will carry me o’er
till I lie by his side?
Oh, wide is the water,
yet love’s currents race
past deep tossing tempests
to your lover’s embrace.
31. Spring Signs
The Carolina wren
Perches on a bare ash branch
With its tail cocked up
To scold bold robins which feed
Amidst the dandelions.
As the sunset fades
the wood thrush takes up its song
which rings through the trees
to work a springtime magic
and bring out the shining stars.
The first hot spring day
the gnats emerge from hiding
in their creekside beds
and rise in clouds by the field
to feed returning warblers.
Thank you for reading all of these poems for the month in Calliope's Carousel. I'm grateful. I welcome reactions, reflections, comments or curses. Feedback of any kind is helpful and appreciated.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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