Ball or Line

In the heat she stretches her paws out in front of her, lying long on her belly, her head low, chin on the bed. Her back legs extend the line of her body, stretching out behind her. How sleek she is, and black. And how relaxed. Total abandonment. 

In the cold she curls, paws and head drawn in, conserving her body warmth – a clump of darkness, rounded, almost a ball. How trusting, given up to sleep, completely safe here with me. Comfort and safety express themselves in all her resting shapes.

Of course, as soon as I bring out the camera she changes her pose – to something between  the two!

Written for Writing Ourselves Alive, week 1: Curiosity

Also an example of a prose poem for dVerse MTB Prose Poetry

Contemplating the Unfamiliar

The Water Dragon is not afraid.

It comes to the glass door and poses

in profile, displaying long tail,

strong body, sturdy legs,

and above all the head held high,

cocked, staring in. We are strange

exotic creatures to the Water Dragon,

I suppose. Or perhaps, after all, it is afraid,

keeping so still – frozen, so that we won’t
discern, it supposes ... do they suppose?

Image from public domain

Written for Writing Ourselves Alive, week 1: Curiosity

Linking to Poets United's Midweek Motif ~ Fear

Long Time No See

When Colleen arrived this morning and knocked,

and I opened the door, she stood on my top step

widely smiling. She wore a white top, an orange skirt,

and a pendant on a long white cord, with a tiny,

serene head of the Buddha. Her pale red hair

was brushed back from her face at the sides, curving

above her forehead. Her big eyes shone. She gave me

a long hug. All in all, she was that ray of sunshine 

people talk about, when they want to say 
that someone made them happy. And she did!

Written for Writing Ourselves Alive, week 1: Curiosity

There's a Round Mirror

There’s a round mirror on my desk

on a stand. It’s way at the back,

I mostly forget it’s there. When I do

see my face, I’m startled. This woman 

looks so pasty-faced and solemn. 
Who is she?

The first of a month-long series written for Satya Robyn's course, 'Writing Your Way Alive', Week 1: Curiosity.

My Terrified Cat

My terrified cat 

chooses, in fierce thunder,

safety outside –

under the patio roof,

beneath the mini-tramp 

and the blanket
she lolls on, in quieter times.

cloudy morning ...

cloudy morning –

lavender flowers bob

in sudden breeze

Three Days Away

The vines have extended

new tendrils questing to spread.

I go and loop them back

through the old pathways

of curlicues covering the fence.

The rainclouds – active (I’m told)

in my absence – turn sluggish,

moving away very slowly.

There seem to be many more
flies and mosquitoes. The cat
retreats back indoors.

Garden Moments

Spring breeze –

a dead leaf dangles

from a web

******

mosquito –

I reach, close my hand
on empty

Spring Things

black-and-white

visiting butterfly

quickly gone

******

fine morning

tiny birds flutter

in new leaves

******

yawning early –

last night late with sexy

new novel