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78 · Nov 24
Moons Over Oaxaca
Ellen Beener Nov 24
MOONS OVER OAXACA

The pecking of the beak
The flapping of the magnificent span
Outlined on the fiery globe low in the horizon
Air of spring surrounds
Bright hued serapes holding in parched heat
Pyramid reaching Sun
Glued to lashes that dare not flicker
The drums of the Aztec moon pound
To cool tempers as they flail above the plateau of Oaxaca  
Ancient orange moon hovers long after
The feared sacrificial songs
Dawn of survival endured many moons
Those who witness history
Those who feel it retold
A thousand years hence
Never forget the brilliant paints and woven pigments
That cannot absolve sins of the Aztecs
The frightening beauty of the Moons over Oaxaca
55 · Dec 2019
Mourning in the Morning
Ellen Beener Dec 2019
Mourning in the Morning

From the comfort of solace, I once dreaded
Under the warmth akin to Mother’s womb
Where peeking out submits to the shivers
As frigid air bites at my skin
My feet fear the season’s floor
Taunting the neck of traveling goosebumps
The Sun has yet to peak and spread her light  
I yearn to crawl back under yards of soothing fabric
Stitched together so ceremoniously
Time stood still as memories
Filled the room with the striving laborious
Struggle to stay alive while the needle ******
With every stitch and threads break
As loss of love seeks the safe journey home
written after a visit to a recent widow.
Ellen Beener Jan 2019
Let’s Have some Jazz Tonight

Swivelin’ my hips round to the golden Saxophone
My scarlet pink lips vibrate and flow to the bouncin’ beats
Aabaa Baaba and I’m up and shakin’ and jumpin’ my dark brown boots fierce
I don’t feel blue no more because high hot blushing pink guitar is a’ strumming

Soft and profound as champagne blonde trombone makes my tears roll
The midnight black coffee’s good the golden beer’s better
Me n’ my honey we’s a swingin’ to the blues a lovin’
Till lavender sky goes down to deep violet

We lift up like Granny Smith green apples and dip low as pecan pie
Swinging to the all-night Jazz takes us from elegant silver to graceful gold
Lingering crimson red tunes glue us together like valentine lovers
Cheek to cheek no space in between we trot into the blazing orange dawn

— The End —