for a moment of joy or moments no one pays for, i give myself a ‘jornal’. this makes me rich. try it.

mementoes (when my haiku mutate into free verse)

through shedding arcs
up the sand hill down the slide
i make a short cut to my wedding

my veil tangled in a hail
of magnolia endings

six heads bob over the hedge but
a man selling balloons i pull up
a picture the sun

fades in my hand my ring turns
blue in autumn rain

i gawk on my mud-soaked feet
pigeons i startle whoosh up
spray the sky

as seagulls prancing stomp
on my impaled shadow

on my wall i let go of daylight
on the window ledge
my cabbage roses wilt

on leaf tips I glimpse my tears
dripping from my shredded heart

December 14, 2010 - Posted by | free verse, poetry | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


  1. Beautiful.

    Just beautiful.

    I’ve read it four times and it has not been enough.

    Comment by Rothach | December 14, 2010 | Reply

    • Thank you for coming by and for being the first to like my poem! Because poets hardly get a “daily wage” in living terms, your comment is all I need to get through not just a day.

      Thanks again!

      Comment by alee9 | December 14, 2010 | Reply

  2. Sensory-rich, exemplary work.

    Comment by Steve Isaak | December 14, 2010 | Reply

    • Thanks, Steve! Such word that is never enough, hardly expressive of what I feel. “Exemplary work…” I say this again, if my lit professors especially one published poet could read this now…

      Comment by alee9 | December 15, 2010 | Reply

  3. I agree with Rothach. Beautiful. Just Beautiful.

    Comment by Raven Garland | December 14, 2010 | Reply

    • Raven, thank you, and thanks for always being there!

      Comment by alee9 | December 15, 2010 | Reply

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