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Forms and Syllables
Masters and Forms
Review by Claude
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A perimeter stain / where something was painted pink / then quickly removed.
Bent birches bowing / bearing the brunt beneath / back-breaking burden.
Cicada buzzing / in circadian rhythm / his urgent swan song.
Not to be outdone / the other side of the yard / is now in full bloom.
One day’s not enough / to celebrate all they’ve done / but it’s a good start.
When he had the blues / he found solace in painting / now his palette’s changed.
Three dusty brushes / left by the happy artist / without need to paint.
Between evergreens / the forgotten apple tree / quietly blossomed.
A choice at the end / whether to let go of life / or linger longer.
So thankful / I can choose what I’m / thankful for.
Late autumn reveals / the summer kite whose journey / ended in a tree.
The infinite tones / of a cloudless sky at dusk / dissolve into dark.
Flip levers / fill ovals, make choice / feel power.
Found by hands that bled / the rosebush that hid behind / tall grass for a while.
Warm September rain / quenching garden’s ebbing thirst / at season’s ending.
His soul looking down / saw the shell it left behind / finally empty.
Bicycles / two of them may cast / one shadow.
After a wild night / raccoon makes his muddy mark / fleeing over fence.
Plants wait for planting / watering can sits idle / cold Spring rain falling.
The Prince has left us / without our funky ruler / may he jam in peace.
Unfortunately / so much death, that our heartbreak / is now commonplace.
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