Gondola

Eternal

So lovely to stroll in the sun amongst the rambling stones draped in hydrangea the Victorians so loved their flowers

Hands held tight our chatter lively who knows what the long dead think of lovers

of desire

I pull you to a huddled assembly of marble decked in lichen beneath the primordial maple well rooted in the dead

I want this eternity the worn stone the opulent branches throwing cool shadows

but only with you two stones leaning in 100 years on.

         -Skye

“ I’ll find you in the morning sun” Billie Holiday / I’ll Be Seeing You.

St Mary’s, Reigate, Surrey.

Source: magnificent-winged-beast

Nyx

Look at you carrying around night in jar Daughter of Chaos

Empty your vessel as the sun retreats And let me sleep under the liquid deep

Endless Ocean Of universe Sprinkled With stars.

-Skye

Image Credit: Unknown though often attributed to Arthur Fellig (1889-1968) American Street Photographer.

Circus Comes to Another Small Town

The circus came along with its Tigers and tentpoles Elephants and elegant ponies Rolling right down main street

Excited whooping children followed

Wild free-range boys mostly (Where the girls free-range or otherwise were sadly, we will never know)

When the circus ceased its Creak and clatter Lurching to a stop

Those boys who ran alongside All the way from town Gathered before The fat lady’s trailer

Giggles crinkled their dusty faces Some pointed grubby fingers Some made faces puffing out their cheeks

Of all the wonders to behold When the circus comes to town

Those scruffy, wild, need a bath boys Ignore the acrobats, the orangutang, The clowns in make-up and everyday clothes

All of them Tumbling out of the trucks on the green just outside of town

To goggle and gape At Miss Ellie May Gump The fattest woman in world.

-Skye

Image:The New Bedford Orpheum Theater, Massachusetts Photographer:Frank Grace Source:Ruinationstation

Elegy for the New Bedford Orpheum Theater

The Titanic sank The day you opened

Your gilt was fresh and tableaus bright

It was April 15, 1912 World war had not come Flu had not come World war had not come again

Merry patrons settled into indigo velvet

900 miles east northeast The cold water swallowed thousands While a different band played

Your opulence faded fast Dust caked, peeling, Stripped mostly Bare

You were sold and sold again

The rain came in leaving Plaster puckers, mildew stains, Mushy boards

For-sale sign clouded by rust You are eternally empty

Swallowed whole I tread gently on your aching abandoned bones Lighting candles And singing For the dead.

I rarely write about my poems....

I believe the persons reading them have a right to interpret poems in individual ways. I certainly know what my poems mean to me but that does not mean that you should try to see it my way.  Everything I write is meant to be “seen” by the reader through their lens.  It’s not really about what I meant.  It’s about what it means to you.  I think it is quite wonderful to throw my words out into the world. I love that once they free of me, you might read them and perceive them in ways I cannot even fathom.  So, thank you for reading a few of my poems and interpreting them as you see fit.   

If you find yourself with questions, have feedback about a poem, or wish to offer a suggestion for a future poem this is my invitation please don’t be afraid to reach out.

Painting: The James Place, Andrew Wyeth, 1963 Watercolor and pencil on paper 30 X 21 in. Image Source: Sothebys.com

Andrew Wyeth Summering in Maine, 1963

In 1963 the James place sat Yankee straight Holding up the milk-colored sky Clapboards no longer gleaming Rough and ready salt grass Waving

You are there Sketching somewhere Beyond the flank of the house A scraggle of grass nipping at your ankles

You see that house And make it yours.

Source: visualstatic101

Tides

Mooring lost Battered upon the sharp reef I could only be counted as flotsam A bottle with no message Driven out into a howling sea Without a cry

Stranded in this bottle I lost the sea Peering out through the wavy glass I saw nothing I felt nothing So fearful was the loss

The bottle has long broken There are bits of sea glass That can’t cut anyone Even me Scattered now Among my bones

You ask me to examine them now These old hurts and betrayals I see only soft light The kind you find both at dawn and sunset

We are all subject to the tide I suppose, It steals our voice and brings it back again.

-Skye

Title: Rabbits and Triangles  Artist: Schinako

Bunny Math

Bunnies in the Garden Bunnies in the grass

Far too many bunnies Large and small Big and fat Black and brown ones Some snowy white

I cannot believe it They multiplied over Night

The garden is in shambles The lawn is such a mess I love the little bunnies

But to this I must confess I must share some regrets That freeing two little Easter bunnies Has had such exponential effects.

Source: Winter tree and three crows, by Takeuchi Seiho (1890).

Haiku- In Winter Trees

Crows weigh on branches All wearing winter twilight Chattering with me.

-Skye

Fisherman's Catch

Hapless Mermaid who walked upon the land and grew to miss the sea with its deep dark places

Absent of air

I watched her one evening slip below the surface so beautiful so broken covered by sea

When I pulled her up out of it into my arms I realized she was only a common girl

After all

Shallow pale and choking on ocean.

-Skye

Sally Gall

Caitlin, 1996