Ascending shadows free frigid forest
From silently stalking sylvan guest
Lilac light lilting songbirds astir
Crystals cascade from ruffled fur
Halting hoof crinkles tinkling grass
Seeking silver trickling under glass
Softly stifled step echoes eerily alone
Tickling giggling reply from icy stone
Drinking doe darts sight unseen
Elusive as spring in this snowy scene

Some poems don't
work.
No amount of
tweaking will
fix it.
You can't finger it until
it comes.

Push the delete
button and
start over.
You write because
you have to.
It's in your cells.

You're a salmon,
swimming up
stream to stay
alive.
You write because
the nuthouse yawns,
and beckons.
It waits.

The cage door is
open, and the
water is
tainted with
mercury.
Fly away, or die.

If the writing
isn't working,
go fishing,
eat a tangerine or
some brussel sprouts.
Be livid
Be silly.
Study the *****
and the orchid.

Think about what the
color black tastes like, or if
pink whispers or yells.
And write until
the trivialities take
flight from your
life.
In the surrendering,
triumph will come.

Starting from well behind the line
I ran the race as best I could.
I do not have the newer shoes
But I have legs both fast and strong.

I held my own through
The very first curve
And pulled ahead
On the straightaway.

But then the oval straightened out
And it became an endless road
So my advantage faded off
And others started catching up.

In fancy shoes
And running clothes
They gained on me
With every step.

Now in the middle of the pack
I felt the breath of those behind
Who wanted me out of their way
And nudged me over to the edge.

The tatters of my shoes fell off
And I was running barefoot
Over rocky ground that cut my feet
Not on the turf inside the track.

The race went on and I fell back
With with each and every painful step.
I was last of all the rest
As everybody passed me

The finish line came into sight
And though I had a painful limp
I struggled on to get there
The cheering was for someone else
But I was still a winner.
ljm

I watch the
parade of
trivialities line
up like
hemlock,
like mad dogs
yipping at
my ankles.

I'm too
crafty for them.
I laugh and
yawn
and watch
my cats play with
an electric fish.

It was a cold, gray and windy out there yesterday; but there were still colors to enjoy...
Flowers to admire...
I guess  it is a bit like life, really...
No matter how tough it is, there is always a ray of sunshine to enjoy and  a bit of hope that tomorrow will be a better day...  

That is what a mother brings to her children's life... the hope
of a better tomorrow...

As I see it mother's day is not about giving gifts or the day itself...  
It is about reflecting what being a mother means...
What a mother is doing for her kids and the legacy she will leave them behind...
Mothers will leave a legacy of kindness, courage, good values and integrity...
That is priceless...

Best wishes for a great Sunday and a happy mother's day...to all mothers out there...

By the way, mothers should be celebrated everyday, not just on mother's day...

her words make her feel like an imposter
the past makes her feel like a spectator
when he asks her how the family is doing
she wonders if she looks pretty enough
if it will ever be able to cover it all up
he doesn't bother to ask any further
and she gets her answer

My almost grown grandsons
see only a stooped withered
old man when they look at me,
no clue of the young man I used
to be. Or where I have been, the
things I've done. They've only
known me like this. Even 20
years ago, when they were born
I was already a senior citizen.

In my mirror I also see what they
see and can barely recall that
once upon a time younger me.

Time and the elements move
on leaving erosion behind upon
mountains and people too.