Monday, September 18, 2017

One Shakes (Day 243)


one shakes off 
the droplets of pewter sky and
the dog-damp air settling in cracks and
the iridescent fairy dust of adolescent longing

because now 
powder puff snowbanks have given way
to faded crevasses   shade-flooded and 
rimmed with quicksilver

how is one to live 
when golden lines of poison goose-step 
down boulevards of half-remembered dreams?



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Public Domain

Sunday, September 17, 2017

155th Anniversary (Day 242)


Fallen stories gather 
Looming suddenly through vast fog
Buried in verdant fields


Words and image of Antietam National Battlefield, (c) 2017 by Hannah Six

Saturday, September 16, 2017

That Is (Day 241)

That is 
Not 
The one 
This 
Is not the day 
It’s not 
The way 
It seems 
Colored 
By dreams 
That kept you 
Up all night 
The brakes 
So slightly giving 
You 
Careening 
Down a hill 
Slow 
Slow me 
Down 
Turn 
Me around this 
Is not 
The ride 
I bought 
No 
But in the end 
It is 
The only ride 
I got

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Axel Hammer

Friday, September 15, 2017

Poison Slurry (Day 240)

your words  they lie 
as well as 
sit  a pale egg 
unhatched 
the poison slurry 
fills the cracks
appalling  we are 
spit-and-polish 
egos  where a small 
few head 
he goes all in  
they follow even unto
silver-plated truth he 
traded in 
exchange for 
long-since missing wits



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: StockSnap

Thursday, September 14, 2017

Shape of Sleeping (Day 239)

shape of sleeping human being 
soft warm curves and bones
conform to flat hard concrete  mind 
likely dreaming  imagine  suitcases
rolling luggage wall  odd aimless 
walkers  hair ragged  eyes glazed 
like nothing can help believe 
what lies this narrow kind of town 
tells  a patched stone wall  wobbly 
one-lane street  the bridge is slow 
quiet place for sleeping under
baby-blue blanket  to lay down and 
rest now  once night cold and dark 
falls under there safe is conditional



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Mariamichelle

Wednesday, September 13, 2017

I Tell You No (Day 238)

Because I tell you no, I tell you yes. 
You only have to guess to see me smile. 
Once in a long while, you might let me down. 
I’ll come around again, though if you wait. 

Too late is not the same as yesterday. 
And now the birds have flocked, and now have flown. 
The days have grown so short, and cold, and gray. 
You say I told you no, but I said yes.



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Photo: Pixabay

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Autumnal Indulgence, ca. 1985 (Day 237)


Beneath bunting 
   leaves of wine 
      and gold
air warm with autumn
light 
      we walked together
hands clasped
      we sailed glistening 
black highways 
to the sea 
   and back
       before you 
explained
in the gray dawn
       before you 
decided 
I should 
       know


(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Photo: wikimedia