UNTIL SUCH TIME
My trio of tubes
to make music.
I hang inside
dreaming of breezes
In my bones,
©Mary Lee Hahn, 2015
Carol, at Carol's Corner, will join me again this year as often as possible.
Kimberley, at iWrite in Maine, is joining me this month.
Kay, at A Journey Through the Pages, is joining, too!
Steve, at inside the dog, is sharing his poems
in the comments at Poetrepository.
Heidi, at my juicy little universe, will join us when she can.
Linda, at TeacherDance, will join as often as she can.
Check the comments at A Year of Reading or Poetrepository for her poems.
Kevin (Kevin's Meandering Mind) is back this year,
leaving poetry trax in the comments.
Jone, at DeoWriter, is doing a "double L" challenge.
She and I are cross-poLLinating our challenges whenever possible.
In my bones...what a superb line, Mary Lee. Hollow, strong, light these tubes, and that line. Also, the acceptance of the way things are for the moment. When one is a clapper, one wants to clap...ReplyDelete
I waited by the river of words, rod poised, hook baited, but only some small fry bit. (Probably tied the wrong fly; I'll have to accept my mistake.) Probably I should throw this back, but the hungry maw of Po-emotion is waiting, so, I filleted it anyway and placed it on the platter.
Not a Life
He spends his whole life
walking on his hands,
rolling poop back
to his house. Ewwww!
The children say. They say.
That’s disgusting! But
what else is there
for the dung beetle?
It may not be a life,
but it’s a living.
Steve, I love the humor in your poem. The poor dung beetle doesn't have just a living if he can make us laugh!ReplyDelete
I adore this one, ML. What a gracious set of wind chimes...so wise. And bones - yes. I want this wind chime to be my friend. xoReplyDelete