NaPoWriMo 2020

Once again, as part of National Poetry Month, I am participating in NaPoWriMo -- National Poetry Writing Month.

Hopefully, you will join me each day as I post a new poem (usually later in the day). With the Coronavirus COVID-19 running rampant alongside Easter and its message of deliverance, it should make for some interesting poetic bedfellows.

As always, this is something that takes place in both Canada (find out more at http://poets.ca/npm/) and the United States (find out more at https://poets.org/national-poetry-month).

You can find other participants at http://www.napowrimo.net/.

    

 

Please leave comments!

the end

the end always catches me by surprise

i thought i had one more day

we always think we have one more day

perhaps living as if we had one more day

is the problem 

                        “one more day”?

*

i’ve been told the end is supposed to be full of joy—

too often the end is marked with pain

i take no pleasure in the ending of any thing:

stories; songs. love; hope. the flight of birds

the flowering of flowers, the cycle of seasons

*

i declare to you: the only good ending is a kiss.

the beginning of a promise: a shared breath

a way to intimate: our unfinishedness is a a gift.

silence

here are my arms

                             my mouth open

full of words

                     full of air

my mouth open

                          with silence

like a wound

                     my mouth open

my empty hands

                            here are my arms

highway

we hadn’t see any wildlife

along the highway the entire

time we were on holidays.

halfway home, it was still

all trees, pines and firs,

fireweed covered foothills,

fog enshrouded mountains

and cascading waterfalls—

beautiful, yes, but not

what we had hoped for.

we decided we’d ask God

to make it happen, and why not?

not long after we saw

a bear trudging along tall grasses,

a moose standing calmly on the shoulder,

a bald eagle circling over a small lake,

mountain sheep traversing

a sheer cliff face, one slipping

and recovering juvenile

causing us to catch our breath.

we all felt such joy and wonder

at those moments, nature

presented to us in bite-sized chunks

of glory, an answer to prayer

and the gift of coming home.

even without pictures,

that shared experience still

reminds us that seeing

something together

makes every journey full.

gaps

in the middle of the conversation

there was a gap in the middle

of the meal there was a gap

in the middle of the day

there was a gap in the middle

of our lovemaking there was a gap

in the middle of the book

there was a gap in the middle

of the poem there was a gap

in the middle of the family

there was a gap in the middle

of the night there is a gap

in the middle of my memories

there is a gap in the middle

of the only story i know there is a gap

in the middle of my desire

there is a gap that i want to fill