Posted in Nature, Poems/Poetry, Renee Espriu

Catching Particles

81226116.9b8fXl5I.dragonflybrightinsunedit4655splintered wood from
a lightning struck tree
catching particles
of afternoon sun

like reflections
of another self
transformed in
Alice’s looking-glass

catching particles
of colored prisms
the waterfall dances
over time’s precipice

& the dragonfly is seen
catching particles
of each ray of sun
season of summer done

– Renee Espriu

© 2013, poem, Renee, Espriu, All rights reserved
Photo credit ~  the original work of rshmd via PBase

c796b9e96120fdf0ce6f8637fa73483cRENEE ESPRIU ~ is a creative prose writer and poet. She began delighting us with her work at Turtle Flight, My Muse & Angels in March 2011. The work she shares with us there includes short stories. Renee is a daughter, mother, grandmother, and seeker of spiritual peace and soul-filled freedom. She’s studied at the graduate level and has attended seminary. She describes her belief system as eclectic, encompassing many faiths. She believes “Nature is the basis of everything that is and everything that is also a part of Nature.”

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

TRAFFICKING IN DREAMS.

Oh love and summer,  you are in the dreams and in me…Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

·

TRAFFICKING IN DREAMS

by

Jamie Dedes

·

Sitting on the worn stone steps of summer

on salty Brooklyn nights in Dyker Heights

with our senior year pending like a threat.

Jamming sessions.

Sharing hugs.

Sipping cokes.

I sang you, my first song. You played me,

honeyed melodies in B on a new guitar.

·

Stan on his Irish frame*. Jim on horn.

Your sassy sister chorine** sprinkling

silver star-dust. We trafficked in dreams.

But faith betrayed, a rusted rudder;

your future a rose-bright moon

falling sadly into a turquoise sea.

·

You’d drive me home at dawn

in your dad’s blue Nova, into a

violet sunrise, deep purple maples

standing guard by mom’s place.

Now gone, you and the old roost.

·

No more of your music. No old friends.

Just meandering the strangest streets

mumbling something off-key, strumming

the memory of you, a new guitar, and

the summer we trafficked in dreams.

·

© 2010-2012 poem, Jamie Dedes, all rights reserved

Photo credit ~ Petr Kratochvil, Public Domain Pictures.net

* a bodhrán drum.

** 1920s American term for a chorus girl.

Posted in Jamie Dedes, Poems/Poetry

SOUL’S WINTER

In my coat I sit

At the window sill

Wintering with the snow …

The Dead of Winter by Samuel Menashe in Samuel Menashe: New and Selected Poems

·

MY SOUL’S WINTER

by

Jamie Dedes

soul’s winter with days like secret lights

like eels slithering in the depths of the sea

with vague interests and a fathomless eye

stilled by a gray groping arctic freeze into

thinking of what-fors, whys, then howling

and waking up in spring with the hope of

answers in the hint of fresh green summer

·

© poem, Jamie Dedes, 2011 All rights reserved

Photo credit ~ morgueFile