Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Spring Tanka (Day 462)


Slowly, seasons rise.
Cicadas dream of flying.
Snapping Tulip flags.

Violets keep their own counsel.
Consider the unfallen rain. 


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Tuesday, April 24, 2018

Holding On (Day 461)

Raspberry Beret.
Twenty-six flights of stairs.
Over and over.

Old proverb tells us:
Youth is wasted on the young.
Thoughtlessly squandered.

How else could it be?
It’s painful, living, loving.
If we knew, would we?

Lovers, parents, pets,
Smooth skin, stamina, joints, minds—
We learn to let go.

Think how tragic death would be,
If we died still holding on.


(c) by Hannah Six

Monday, April 23, 2018

Different Perspective (Day 460)


listen 
to a different 
      perspective
barking
   ghetto voices
swearing 
   git th’ fuck inside
      at their children
no leashes  
      this is how they talk
few restraints
      to their children
   I SAID th’ FUCK 
   in th’ HOUSE
lunging 
   on a whim
plunging 
   their fangs
into your wrist 
   or the skin
delicate as a finch 
   wrapped 
or a sweet pea
   around your throat 



(c) 2018, by Hannah Six


Sunday, April 22, 2018

Packing Boxes (Day 459)


The things, the things...
Glasses from Long John Silver
which my grandmother saved 
for me
for decades
A doll I’ve had since she and I
wore the same size clothing
Art supplies I use
art supplies I don’t use and 
art supplies I may want to use 
again   someday
And 
   so
      many
          mugs
How they anchor us to the past
How they overwhelm the present
How they obscure what might be
And yet
Some things ask to be released
Others wait  patiently
for me to be ready to hold them
for me to be ready to release them 
for me to be ready 
   to move
       into an unburdened future




(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Saturday, April 21, 2018

One long ‘Thank you’ (Day 458)

True love is really
one long 
      Thank you
it is giving up 
   your ego
           your rights
             your pride
and opening to 
   imagination
         vulnerability
         comfort
—a 10-year-old child 
sitting on a curb
conversing with 
a pale yellow dog
   befuddled
      devoted
         exposed



(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: “If Nick Nolte were a dog...” 
by Christopher Michel via Wikimedia Commons


Friday, April 20, 2018

Cherry Trees (Day 457)

Earth sways  cavorts  
shakes loose from leafless 
cherry trees  a dozen brilliant 
blossoms  bouncing  nestling  
finally resting on deep green 
velvet ground  among a crowd 
of bluebells  bowing  nodding 
to the lingering day


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Thursday, April 19, 2018

Like Shackles (Day 456)

Backing out of our considered 
indifference, like shackles 
increasing gelatinous fear, 
adrenaline clouds 
falling into place beneath 
a fanned-out inversion 
of raised hackles. 
What we observed 
made no sense, 
so we only took notes 
in our little books. 
What we noted made us 
howl and surge. 
Five storms descended 
and we preserved the fallen 
behind chemically-etched glass 
sheets for later observation, 
in case anyone should ask, 
in case anyone should remember.



(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay