a hospital triptych

second left from the oldlift, three pink babiesare sound asleep.two floors below, an oldwoman tears to see hermom who's long beengone.inside the doctor's officea family of four awaitsresults of cameras that invaded their fatheryesterday. “To everything there is a season.” Ecclesiastes 3:1 — 02.24.2022©2022 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash.This work is licensed under a Creative Commons…

our Christmas lights

Made of wood - old unnamedwood - our tiny home. Fragilein the surface. Look beneath.After a minimum of 20 typhoons per year, it's still proud after acouple of decades. Unlikethe tamarind tree, the acacia,the guava, the hibiscus, thebanana. September is clothe in blinking little lights. The countdown forthe manger starts. It is a season of…

murmurs: a 100-word story

Four houses inside a red gate - dwarfed by the acacia tree beside it. Murmurs upon murmur, they wait like masked bees waiting for the sting of the queen. "So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm."Not in the 21st century when a hollowed neck meant for a lover's head can be…

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…

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…

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…

Risk

after Anaïs Nin curled.like a tighter "c",too shy to takeits forehead up,for now.risk.from an asleep seedto a pale stem,leaves-armed, waiting.sun.here we come.here wecome. — 09.06.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via The Seeds Master This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. — For dVerse Poetics: Take a risk! Inspired by the germinating chilli…

beautiful girl

after Sara Bareilles twirl, twirl, twirl,how long have you beentwirling, twirling, twirling?you're a top. their words make your self-worth spin,"fat arms,fat tummy,fat fingers.you don't drink,how come you havebeer belly?" a cocoon you builtaround yourself, beautiful girl. don't trade your marshmallow-softnessfor their starved hips,beautiful girl.they're blinded by your wings, glittered, come,you, oh you,beautiful girl. — 04.06.2021©2021…

thawing

Here. Let’s share my mitten-hand. I’m from the tropics— tower of sea and sand. I know. I know you understand. Here. Let’s share my early coffee cup, blessed with its own shadow-thin cloud. No, darling, don’t look up. Here. Come here. My wrapped arms warm and raw. Melt with me before this dear mountain thaws.…

shhh: a pleiades*

sing to me Polaris' songsteady, constant of the north.show my midnight lullabysoftly rocking, back and forth.see the map on my pillowsalted as sunbathing seas.shoo my fears, shoo them for me. — 11.25.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. — For dVerse Poetics:…