September of the tropics

I slept on the first morning and woke up on the 27th day. Time flies seems like an overused line. But how else could I say the passing of September? The plants I tried to rear last year are now vitamins on the dried potted soil. Death is silent. Usually.Autumn is a season I have…

i wonder

Do the crows knowa group of them is called a murder?A murder, their lunch,delivered by guns onhumans' hands.Do the rooks wear some suit and tie, to fit their name--- a parliament. Do they get to decide wherethe next bomb willspit out its wreak? Oh, that's on us, again.These corvids probablythink these terms soundbest to describe…

letter to the sky

aboveearth's ceilingused to be a floating sea where flying boats careen sofree. until, likeautumn leaves, millions are dead. tiny things inhaled-death. open up like daffodilsof baby spring baiting for bees. unzip the clouds. allow hellosto happenagain. — 09.14.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International…

hearing hummingbird: a novilinee*

Behind the grills of painted metal, Itry to find the source of song I'm hearing,some leaves started dancing with wind so dry,then comes the busy wings flapping, flapping.A hummingbird with honeyed beak, tiny,oblivious of watching eyes - for good.No one wants to be watched when it's windy,and nectar hides inside the flower's hood."Close your eyes…

hiding: an acrostic plus*

sonnets no longer needed,era of legend-loveended before our birthmonth cracked its firstegg yolk sun, surelysome lovers of eagle know neverever should wings yearn for the sunoverly close or turn tougly ashes no poet will mourn about. — 08.25.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International…

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…

dawn’s affair

Curl in your tummy closer to your chest,ribbon each second,let your lungs rest.Closer to your chest, consider each night'sblank page mess where youribbon each second,lasso the closest moon,blink with two fireflies, thenlet your lungs restbefore your ears hum with tomorrow's yolk-sun. — 18.06.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under…

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…

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.…

take a seat and see

rolled sunset crawlsto kiss whale's home,persimmon spilled.wilted leaves archtowards foliage tomb,autumn fulfilled. cold keys hangvoid of fingers, warm, bite the seed of hopewill it burst somebitter crumb? consider the possibilityof wings once our breathssuccumb — 11.17.2020©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.…