Settling

Outside, it’s an overcast, drizzly day. 

I’m warm inside, still in pyjamas.

A lad with a leaf blower is noisy out there.

In here, my small cat and I are cosy, quiet.

I’m warm inside, and still, here in my pyjamas.

All my old longings have quieted with age.

My small cat and I are cosy. Never mind

the world, full of wars and climate disasters.

All my old longings have quieted with age.

The world still has beauty, natural and man-made,

even though it is also full of wars and climate disasters.

I’m bound to leave it in a few years anyway.

Yes, it still has beauty, both natural and man-made:

even that lad with his leaf blower, noisy out there.

Well, I’m bound to leave it in a few years anyway.

Need I care that, outside, it’s overcast and drizzly today? 

In Remembrance of You

 

I bought myself a ring:

silvery, shaped like a fox.

I slip it on my right hand,

on the third finger. On my left

I still wear my wedding ring

from Andrew, although I am 

long widowed. You too are dead.

I’m fourteen years a widow now.

It feels long. You, I have mourned

54 years already. It seems like 

yesterday. I don’t need a ring

to remember you, or him. 

But I like the thought of at last 

bringing you, too, physically present.

Great Mystery

 

After dancing with him in the forest

one recalls few details – only the speed

of reckless feet, the rush of wind

through flowing hair, the giddying swirl

inside firm arms holding safe, and 

the after-taste of ecstasy. (He has

many names, the Horned God.)

Written for Quadrille 249 at dVerse. (44 words not including title, which on this occasion must include some form of the word 'horn'.)