Friday, December 14, 2018

Illumination (Day 695)

Illumination rises   in the arc of our belonging
we know within our bones that we are the hard
broken earth   and do not expect to be 
enamored of the river of possibility flowing 
beneath the solid bridge of the everyday 

(c) 2018 by Hannah Six

Thursday, December 13, 2018

Kindness (day 694)

Kindness is in 

the carefulness

   of the hands

in the slow curl 

   of the lips 

and the curve 

   of a cheekbone


Kindness is in 

the truth of looking 

   and of seeing 

a human being behind 

   a jaded facade


Kindness is in 

the wish for 

   a peaceful day 

and it is also in  

   the having of one


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Rufus Sarsaparilla/Wikimedia Commons

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

December (Day 693)

how early the sun sets 

on these the dead-end 

days of December


when the sky is blank

it is the lack of stillness 

that disturbs  


and snowbanks of hours 

lean heavily against

afternoons already askew


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: PxHere


Tuesday, December 11, 2018

Change it (Day 692)

change it   
let it go 

if you don't 
want it 
back   say so

or there will 
be more tomorrow

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: PxHere

Monday, December 10, 2018

Over their morning coffee (Day 691)

over their morning coffee

his milky and sweet, hers dark and bitter

he chose not to tell her


on their afternoon walk 

under a fluttering canopy of emerald and gold

he chose not to tell her


while doing the dishes

she scraped and washed, he dried and stacked

he chose not to tell her


when they paused the movie

to make popcorn and her favorite hot chocolate

he chose not to tell her




(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Sunday, December 9, 2018

A Harbor (Day 690)

A dense breeze sifts pale waves of fog, 
bringing the distant closer, larger

fringed by trees, a harbor—forested 
with masts that lean against the gale 
like the creaking tips of blue-green firs 

—boats anchored, like us, to mark 
their place among these giant redwoods 
slowly, silently soaring 
toward the sun

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: JJensen/Pexels


Saturday, December 8, 2018

We grasp the waves (Day 689)


but swimming   we grasp the waves 

to stay aloft  

legs softly blurred   dangling  

in the singing mist below   

we close our minds to gravity’s pull   

allow ourselves 

to roll and sway with the arcane 

rhythms of the planet’s respiration   

like seasoned travelers 

who read their morning papers  

standing   astride 

the aisles of rattling rambling trains


(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Spencer Watson (@thebrownspy)

via Unsplash