for the one waiting: a kasa*

Heart rusted by old clock's thick hands,death never knocks, no one arrives. You've suit yourself in silence's lap,still steps of spring bring in lilacs. As blossoms wilt, more souls depart, while you're still there, above graveyards. Immortal but forever cursed— to wait for love, that never stays. — 08.20.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo… Continue reading for the one waiting: a kasa*

cloud’s sunburn

Three chili plants remaining, I once thought they would succumb after I almost drowned them with neem oil because of pesky ants. Together in a pot, amidst many stormy nights, it's always a surprise when I see them breathing in silent delight. Yes, with wrinkled leaves, but at least, still alive.But these clouds are clearly… Continue reading cloud’s sunburn

an afternoon: a mirrored refrain*

Choir of August rain singsTo soil and cloud just married,Though the door is open wideMy feet remains buried.A cup of tea, I made,With cubed sugar on the side,My feet remains buriedThough the door is open wide.Silence sat beside me With light solitude carried,Though the door is open wideMy feet remains buried. Grey sky may seem… Continue reading an afternoon: a mirrored refrain*

by the hills

aglasswindowmultiple f e e t& arms wide blessed with the f a r peaks view looking so nearmy tongue can l i c k their iced tips.legs of oaks holding our toes afloat asif the drop is not 5,000 feet. considerthe wild strawberries outside, untouch-ed yet blossoming under the winter airsome cicadas are here to… Continue reading by the hills

someone stood still on a globe for 50 minutes

heard it's bad to stand so longthink ankle hurting calves groaning but spine will also complain about sitting from first roosters call to the sun's departure ihave been standing stillagainst the wind ofvirus that killed my airplane-bound-homeuntil how long? — 08.04.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons… Continue reading someone stood still on a globe for 50 minutes

wild ball: a monotetra

every morning the peacocks call,wild and free on their private ball,out of the trees after rains fall,a sight for all, a sight for all.are they big, small? i do not tea's friend is the house sparrow,unafraid of my breath's flow solet the wild go, let the wild go. — 30.07.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All… Continue reading wild ball: a monotetra

the lost city

He who hesitates is lost. Unless you are a handkerchief,a ponytail, a forgotten umbrella,a violet hairpin, some princesspaper dolls, my first pair of gold earrings.Those that were once mine.I could build a castle, a mega city, a hydroponic building of lost things thanks to my hesitant hands. — 29.07.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo… Continue reading the lost city

sparrowed mornings

my palms can hold your hand at night, i wonder how they reached so many miles, combed some bay andthe west sea, with a floater. i am sure. probably. you have ten fingers butfelt like twenty in a piano. you ticklemy toes and make my heart flutterlike a feather from a cheerful sparrow. mornings. i… Continue reading sparrowed mornings

where are the planes

after Alice Walker and Zora Neale Hurston Blue. Perhaps baby blue. The shade you gift a baby boy in a shower that does not involve a drop of water. But I'm talking about the July sky, here, in my corner of earth, is rarely blue. Mostly grey. The difference was the absence of flying tins.… Continue reading where are the planes