I haven’t been publishing poetry on www.voermans.net.au first, because of course that constitutes publishing, and I thought I’d have a crack at sending poems off to magazines. Never done that before. Decided it was fun. That of course means a delay and right now I’m not prolific. I’m thinking.
I was writing this for the solstice and on impulse popped it onto Jane Yolen’s comment field on FB, in response to a beautiful post about taking a breath, The Importance of Gathering Days. Reconnecting. I just so happened to have had a similar thought.
Dawn red clouds are old I am reliably informed
A blessing on both our houses in the sky
Or code for something other I cannot argue
Too bland for meaningful sharing and too certain
Of repetition to bother to describe.
Most important matters are plain and most futures are not
Yet, except for the regular blinking passage through Infinity
That makes me suspect I ought to see more when
In truth I have no more of my past than a stranger,
Red dawn is old I say though to see it who would know
A tasty bite a trillion times is not a snack but a Hallow.