yellow highlights brighten leaves
Fall’s paintbrush at work
Once grasses swaying,
now rolled into bales of hay
Born into a world without personal computing, I learned to type using correction strips on a manual typewriter.
Five years ago I saw a woman google for information on her phone while in line at a concert. ‘How novel!’ I thought.
Now, in 2017, my phone is always with me, ready with time, weather, news, answers, camera, apps and books. But today, with no internet connection, I have a feeling of loss. I am not lost though—an old familiar world has returned.
unseen layer removed
old world returns
As I feel myself consumed by insanity I grasp repeatedly for impossible reality. I sink in quicksand, a hungry suction drags me down. I flail, helpless in never-ending delusion. There is no danger no quicksand yet this mindset consumes me, its energy, intoxicating, exhausting hypnosis. Twisted nostalgia skips across scratched memory seen, felt, heard, and as a puppet I re-enact it all over and over until spring thaw when lucidity awakes and speaks: "stand step back stand step back look listen hold on." ©2017 Ontheland
unleashes ghostly breath
misting in deathly white
hurling frozen fistfuls
to angry winds
until new day dawns
a fresh crystal blanket
each tree, each post
burying all remains—
not lost, just waiting
to be uncovered
by wind and sun.
Photo credits: The first photo is from Pixabay (public domain) and the second, I took in January last year.
Kim is the host today at dVerse Poets Pub for Quadrille Monday: ‘Ghost’.
When winter nights grow long,
smoke curls into burdened skies,
sun flashes grey with purple and rose,
and joyful songs sparkle
celebrating light’s return.
Was it the fanfare
and proclamations of cheer
or the bone-chilling nights
that carved a new path to my heart?
∼My first 2017 Quadrille for dVerse Poets Pub—my little pup is curled in my lap as I prepare to click ‘Publish’.∼