Cadenced Landscapes

NAPOWRIMO Days 15,16 and 18--Belated

Very late and in no particular order, here are three more NAPOWRIMO poems. Hooray! Now I'm all caught up--poetically, at least. And no, the post title has nothing to do with anything, save I thought it had a pretty ring to it. *laugh*

Okay, no more hem-hawing. Here you go:

Dinner

The gravy swirls into smooth bubbles which pop

brown across the stove top. Hot outside today, the air above

the stove is hazy; away from the burner the bubbles

murmur to a stop, but memories are always astir.

While cooking anything its hard not to think on things passed.

People of the past. Bridges burnt like plastic spoons left

in gravy pans while fixing up a pot pie. They bend till

they are backwards, beyond use.  So I cook for myself.

For any kind of sustenance can provide substance to the

most maudlin moments;  flake of the pie crust, shape of

mouths smiling through morsels of food, cold beers, wood table,

till suddenly the meal is over and the night creeps in upon the kitchen…

Dinner: scent of oven, bubble of gravy, cooking alone, the quiet of a hot

afternoon in a bridgeless country of spoons that can no longer stir.

The Numbers Game

Seven billion people in the world; seven billion chances to get it right. Growing every day.

Don’t Blink

If life were any

shorter,

what would we

see at the

end of it?

Beauty queens in sparkling

gowns under spotlights?  Late

night skin-e-max? A clash

of MMA giants? Death of

our spouse?  Tickle fits and

BAM!

(Sublime cosmic divine presence with the white light at the end of the tunnel and everything?!)

So just another gorgeous

empty show of beauty

sex

violence

death

laughter

and god in a moment?

Don't close your eyes

unless you must. You

might miss it.