?

?

the dark settles in
dark
blue gray over everything
even white flowers look
the color of slate
a statue
gargoyle in suburbia
amidst quiet bed linens
folded still on one side
perseverates in
sentences without periods
periods without company
and guests only by invitation
to a night
wedding what
one does wear when everything
under urban evenings
and nights look blue
and gray

the sale of plums

the sale of plums

i found i lost my work with words and instead i drew
plums to lips in the market for sale calling out
orchards full of pretty and judgemental there
lips looking for lovers
and not husbands or wives

had it changed so much
were they not still grown in heated seasons
did women appreciate sophistication of scent
how it might smell like a husband freshly bathed
or his shoulder after he held a baby over it

questions instead on the source of the fruit
was not every tree nurtured the same
watered with perspiration of men who missed
their women in the work field

plums that fell from trees now not considered
in reality though soft spots are sign of accommodating tenderness
in the market when lips shopped for plums
i became nervous no wonder in the sale
and returned to the work of words

The Divorce

More a focus on visual arts this month. The Divorce is a recent painting, in acrylic.