A slight abnormality

Her eye turns inward
seeking the truth.
One tooth is missing,
no nutcracker on the left.
A scar graces her ankle,
lawnmower out of control.
Her heart is aflutter,
perhaps it is love?

Her body--no centerfold-- is yet a work of art.
It does not chart a path by
rules and regulations,
formulas and protocols.

Her body evolves, flows, spirals and,
like a river,
finds its own level
in the container called life/death/life.

That Part of You

The crescent moon
waxing behind clouds.
The ice,
thin crystals separating
pond sludge from air.

One leaf clings to the branch
flutters
and lets fly.

Away, away
tumbling across the crust of snow.
So fragile

ephemeral
like the ephemera you collect
that part of you
sensitive, artistic
hidden behind rules and regulations,
tightness and fear.

Now, a scrim forms between you
and what you might become
inviting surprises
inviting a different path than envisioned.
What do you see? What do you see?

Off Course

Our sleigh was horseless,
paint peeled, rusty runners,
the name all but worn away.

Our ride was harried,
steep upward climbs
gleeful downhill careenings:
a wintery marriage.

A hot passion:
the twang of your guitar,
the flare of your welding torch,
the scratch of pen on paper.

Amber liquid, glass after glass
tender eyes shifting to pain.
For ten years we slipped and slid

and then:
the steering broken
the crash echoing among the hills.

Photo taken and shared with us by Willow. Read more poems and stories based on this photo at Magpie Tales.