#form poem

[the-pinetree-poet]

2024 NOVEMBER POEM-A-DAY CHAPBOOK CHALLENGE: DAY 14 ~ HAIKU 114

HAIKU 1114 geō ========== stillness at sunset a low rumble of thunder the smell of the rain

[creatediana]

"Lines in the Fire" - a roundel written 3/13/2024

[rosecorcoranwrites]

[thoughts-for-none-blog]

The couch

We’re just on a couch. Illuminated by the opalescent glow from the TV. Yet, It’s much more for me. We’re watching a movie, but that happens to be the last thing on my mind. I am learning how my heart can recognize things I can’t see.

You clasp my hand, your fingers are roots, tendrils, planting themselves in me like a tree. They branch deeper into my being, until they reach the thing they seek to find. We’re just on the couch. Illuminated by the opalescent glow from the TV. Yet, It’s much more for me.

By this point I’ve forgotten what’s on the screen. Your head on my thigh, hair like that of a golden paintbrush. Able to bring rich hues into a world so colorblind. I am learning how my heart can recognize things I can’t see.

Your thumb strokes my hand, a movement only I can see. A motion so valuable, yet you gave it to me for free. A movement so miniscule, a movement with new meaning. Welcoming, yet unrefined. An assurance that you were mine. We’re just on a couch. Illuminated by the opalescent glow from the TV. Yet, It’s much more for me.

We turn the lights on. The movie ends after what seems like an eternity. Yet still not long enough for me. A fading, fleeting scene from our own little movie and we were the stars this time. I am learning how my heart can recognize things I can’t see.

You stopped coming to movies. I stopped caring, numb from the pain of rejection, avoiding you to circumvent the constant remind. We were just on a couch. Illuminated by the opalescent glow from the TV. Yet, it was much more for me. I learned how my heart can recognize things I can’t see.

[itlldoagain]

Friend Heart’s companion Listening, caring, accepting Family created by choice Confidante

~ c wolf

[bardwell]

Time passes Just right here Mornings like butter; evenings Like, tea

Just right here, Soil like blood, Like tea. We are sitting and watching the sunset.

Soil like blood, Like going home like, Sitting and watching the sunset. Laughter like water

Like going home; like how time passes; like laughter; like water like mornings and evenings and butter

-like going home like

[creatediana]

“Tout est bizarre.” - a poem written 3/30/2023