a misted bridge forms
across the water–
our voices dance
as if they were winged
across the water
we float airborne
touching the sky
our voices dance
uncontained
scattering the light
as if we were winged
needing no reason
playing with life itself
For dVerse, where Lisa asks us to play. Also inspired by the photo, above, by Terri Webster Schrandt, provided by Colleen for this week’s Tanka Tuesday. I’ve written another trimeric poem.
Nothing
remains, except
this quickened memory–
how brief and wondrous it was, that
first love
A cinquain for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, with the photo prompt above by Terri Webster Schrandt.
Frank @ Beach Walk Reflections posted this week about love. His meditations always make me think of music and I considered all the love songs I knew, and how difficult it was to capture the essence of love in words. This morning I put on Donovan’s Fairy Tale album and the first song, “Colours”, struck all the right chords, as it had when I first heard it 50 years ago, conjuring that time and space in my life when the complexities of the future did not yet exist. Ephemeral, but nonetheless still very real, even now, from this far away country where I presently reside.
K. 