Sunday, October 12, 2014

Joanna M. Weston- Three Poems


a frail gleam
of sunlight
on bare branches

tree reflected
in a puddle
on the driveway

while a hydro crew
trims trees
along power lines

cutting the quiet
of Monday morning


body awkward
head angled back
eyes shut

blood trickles
half-open mouth
torn forehead

hood & engine crunched
against rock face
passenger door trashed

flashing lights
driver stands
stunned sober


cragged black rocks
crush old angers

sand   seaweed meld

shells break    cast
out days of grief

mussels cling
like children

tidal currents
swing stale emotions

sand-dollars crack
forgotten promises

we hold each other
through darkness

and stray dogs
howl moon-wise

JOANNA M. WESTON. Married; has two cats, multiple spiders, a herd of deer, and two derelict hen-houses. Her middle-reader, ‘Those Blue Shoes', published by Clarity House Press; and poetry, ‘A Summer Father’, published by Frontenac House of Calgary. Her eBooks found at her blog:

No comments:

Post a Comment