prompts: autumn winds dandelion poem blackbird tangling fireflies river funambulo ebb stranger hesitate

October 6, 2021 to October 19, 2021

from the new moon to the full moon in Libra

autumn, winds, dandelion, poem
‪Autumn winds
compose fire-pit scents
under dandelion parachutes
—echo bloom;
crackles underfoot

As trees discard
their rupturous leaves;
cells grown in between
life-giving stages

Deep discoverable mystery
unlike a poem’s
on high-speed internet

At noon, hiding her shortest shadow in alignment with the bridge, Maena followed between the dark images of the blackbirds bouncing across the water, ignoring the ripping vortex of shattering muck and slosh as the surfacing malevolent spirit lunged to tow all shadows underwater, leaving its victims soulless and forever staring at their own reflection.

In same footsteps/
wind & sun ‪tangling for our skin/
the weathered abrasion of a rock
we stop to pick up/ real weight/
shapes of polished angles
tumble to dents clove
from the whole/

Our fingers bump
across the crust
of our proud

My love’s eyes strike like a floodlight
When he blinks, ‪fireflies disappear
Every week, a brave new season
I’m just here, prepared—
I got boots, flip-flops, cloak,
sneakers, shades, change of clothes
Umbrellas are useless in storms, climactic
And the rain just feels good.

Our cup spilled
divine fem
whole flawed alien
Entire love
I could never be
but in that night of time
petalled revolution
bloomed execution
o the so-called weak
gentle tears
better part o u
I will singe us together
our cups will form a river

funambulo, ebb
Spored tears, at lashes tip—
‪funambulo cries
from ‪ebb of rope,
Moist moss untwists
quiet, fast arias

May the fire-lighters,
wisdom pre-dominant,
palettes & moss,
plan the burning.

stranger, hesitate
Our guards and guardians
have never acted stranger:
they hesitate, nip
at phantom peripheral itches.
Animal mom, animal dad,
do bugs live in your skin?

©2021 LAFogle / Lesley Ann Fogle