One day I saw a single white closed flower bub.
Surrouned by gnarly empty branches.
So alone it was in singular beauty.
It made me stop and wonder;
How it could it be left by itself
While others broke off and wilted away?
A look at the seasons, made me think–
It is holding on for one last breath
Before winter comes to claim it at last.
I wait by phone
Even though I won’t receive a call
No one is around to dial
They are out busily going through their life
Going from one end to another
Never ending loop of “things that come up”
I am saved last in line
Until the day when phone rings
But, I am not there to answer
I am gone somewhere busy with my life
Holiday buying season has opened.
People wait early in morning;
Waiting to get their presents
Before anyone lays a finger
On their gift for someone in the family.
Like a herd of steer they plow
Through doors which open for them.
They jostle and push their way
Trying to get what they need.
Then one at a time, single file
They go through checkout line
Branding their gifts for the scanner.
Paying for them, sighing a relief
They are done at that store.
I lay in my bed,
Not caring to join the fray
I have a whole month to get gifts I need.
Wish I could say this happiest day of the year
But, no I am not allow to come by.
No, turkey legs to snatch from tabletop
To wisk away and hide.
No, kitchen cleaning can I do for family,
Eating up what fell on floor.
No, begging underneath table
Asking for scraps and more.
I am left at home while you go to eat
Your big, fancy meal elsewhere.
I am glad for it,
For there will be to many people;
Especially little kids running all around.
I am glad I won’t be under foot
Making people trip over me.
I will enjoy the quietness
And dream of Thanksgiving in my sleep.
I look across the dark empty space
Not knowing where my future lies.
Should I plow onward into the unknown–
Or stay hidden within my mother’s bosom
Where I know what lies behind the next bend?
What do I have to fear?
I fear the changes though my mind’s eye.
The sting of voices that are hollow in my ears.
Faces that tell a different story.
The yearning to go back to things I know.
Why should I venture through the unknown?
Comfortable, cozy wrapped in my bed.
I peer over into dark emptiness of space.
Afraid to go through;
Afraid of the great unknown and change that awaits me.
I hacked though the poem
Words falling left and right
Sipping ones which didn’t fit
Discarded them to wastebasket
I gathered rest
Mixed them in a pot
Hoping this time they would bare fruit
With a revision that would blossom
Under the sunlight of the sun
Fireflies dance around your head
You smile and laugh
Moving your slender arms in motion
Following the firefly dance
Swaying of music only you hear
One foot pivot then another
They move ahead in rhythm
You follow close behind
Only guided by blinking lights
Which alternate one then another
You are like the fairies tonight
Dancing along with fireflies
Underneath the golden moon
Fall and cold are in the air
Mom makes her famous chili
Hint of spice to tackle the cold outside
You sniff the aroma is strong
Like smelling inside a flower
Big bowl is waiting,
Waiting to fill you up
You take a bit
Feel the warmth rush though
Heating you from head to toe
The coldness leaves you
You finish, satisfy from a warm meal
Knowing there are leftovers for another day
An update on the book. Good news, my book “Ode To Colors” has been published along with the kindle version. You can find the paperback version either on Amazon or CreateSpace. It is also on some other channels too like Amazon Europe and other offline and online retailers.
Amazon link for book: https://www.amazon.com/Ode-Colors-Selected-N-Hasen/dp/1535089407/ref=sr_1_7?ie=UTF8&qid=1478659841&sr=8-7&keywords=ode+to+colors
Amazon link for e-book: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N07BV8H/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1478822005&sr=1-1&keywords=ode+to+colors
CreateSpace link: https://www.createspace.com/6397515
I have promo codes for this site for “preferred customers”: 25% with code 2KLXBDZ4
I have some current books in the works right now. Next year they maybe coming out.
Cold winds come today
Bringing their razor edge swords
Slicing through warm air
Which wither under pressure
They don’t stop for breaks
Making branches sway uncontrollably
Leaves fly off
Leaving branches bare and stark
Against the coming of gloomy weather
Cold winds they don’t stop
They make room for coming winter