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The big C
come to get me
like a snake in the grass
crawling quiet and slow
you begin to grow
taking small, sleeping victims
while I sleep
while I dream
but you made the mistake
that snakes often make
you bit off more than you could chew
I knew it was you
there is only one item now
on his menu
I got his ***!
Shaky Spear is my name
and rhyming is my game
though I don't need to rhyme
to be sublime
I prefer the lines
that stand on their own
just words alone
in a desert of colorless bone
and dying poets
playing with thoughts
here's one for life's pocket folder
we're not getting old
we're just getting older
maybe I'll write a poem today
I've got little else to do
my junk news, wordles, and puzzles are done
did the laundry too

I've got a book to write
and friends to visit
why is that such a reach?
I go through the motions in my comfort zone
watching silent webcams of the beach

I need milk and bread
cereal and eggs
but Walmart seems so far away
little makes me laugh or cry
and each color turns to gray
the shadow knows my every move
he writes my dreams
as if to prove
his dominance

he's in my head
like a vagrant thought
a spider in my own web
I am caught

he's closer now
I sense the space
is measured in days
before he takes my place
In between the sal trees
glistens the river in October light
inviting in the rustling of leaves
to kiss her gently breaking ripples.

She hastes down the rocky *****
impatient as the river gets close
giggling in the dream when her toes
embrace the chill of the late autumn.

The catkins on the other side
swayed vigorously to be with her
spreading with the wind their pollens
in a mad desire to touch her skin.

This October morn she was carefree
floating amid hijal, fig and velvet apple trees
with winds from the river on her sail.

I only watched the fairytale.
Hatibari by Subarnarekha, October 2, 2023, 7 am
she moves in light
while I'm awake
renders mercy
for hearts that ache

she waits in patient
silent hope
providing comfort
a cushion to cope

she has no thoughts
of giving in
slows my breath
when air gets thin

as I await
the final tide
she allows a glimpse
of the other side

she is the reason
this soul can rhyme
with every season
her gift of time
LC is a reference to my Mother; Elsie, who passed many years ago but is always with me
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