Thursday, February 21, 2019

In the crease (Day 764)

take care 

not to bruise 

the fragile 

invisible future 


allow no broken 

tomorrows 

and insist on 

the fullness 

of each hour 


it is too easy 

to miss 

the splendour 

in the crease 

between 

night and day


(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

Image: stanbalik/Pixabay

Wednesday, February 20, 2019

Don’t be frightened of your shadows (Day 763)


Don’t be frightened of your shadows.

Without darkness, how would you know 

the subtle shining of a nascent light?


Instead, delight in the blurry edges—

twilight-tinted corners, forever shielded 

from the moon’s softhearted gleam.


Embrace those small, wakeful hours, 

when truth and dream intertwine, rising 

on fragile wings from Spirit’s fruitful fields.


(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

Image: Migsihi Kōtarō. Butterflies Flying above Clouds. (1934). 

Oil on canvas. Via Wikimedia Commons


Monday, February 18, 2019

Like This (Day 761)

a small mosaic 

table   a summer town

like this   bounty of flowers

fountain quivering 

in the distance   dancing 

ripples of light 

teasing your eyes

soon   

like an iced glass 

of amber tea   droplets 

glimmer   even in the air 

balmy beneath a lush canopy 

of walnuts and maples

and waiting

knowing someone is coming

is almost there

a smile touching 

the corners of your mouth

almost there

as if your lips were already 

preparing for the kiss



(c) 2019, by Hannah Six


Sunday, February 17, 2019

The possibility of stone (Day 760)

a couple stands   contemplating an expanse 

of frozen water   aggressively 

billowing   tumbling from clifftops   smashing 

the possibility of stone submerged  hard 

as a long cold season   they performed their duties   

nestling   clusters of citrus fruit on laden boughs  

perambulating   an allegiance of sacred women 

gowned in mourning-dove gray   and now   

pinpricks of moisture piercing the air around her

she turns in one miniscule movement   sees

what have they done   has she done   finally

belonging to you stings like fire


(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

Image: PxHere





Saturday, February 16, 2019

Small and quiet hours (Day 759)


Everyone knows those questions

in the small and quiet hours

a deep hush   joyful   broken 

by the swish of diminishing snow

by the comfort of books

and all the stars slip into place

like before   wait   notice

and be grateful for the nights

and take pity on the dark corners


(c) 2019, by Hannah Six

Image: skeeze/Pixabay


Friday, February 15, 2019

On a Hidden Path (Day 758)


Saturday afternoon voices 
linger on the air 
and we have some time 
between waves   

evening turns down 
the moon and night hesitates 
in the walls   reverberating   
raining down   drenching us 

where we fell on a hidden path   
hold on to me and 
hold your breath   
you whispered as we lay   entwined 

on the forest floor   we forgot 
to look where we were 
walking and tripped 
over the same stone 

(c) 2019, Hannah Six
Image: Henri Rousseau. Tropical Forest with Monkeys 
(1910). Oil on canvas. Via Wikimedia Commons.