darling

born in the era of wide-legged pantshis limbs - bamboos - his hands - cloudto touch. his eyes,thin eyes, disappearwhen he smiles. he dances, sings without juke, Elton and Michaelcroon inside his heart.no wonder, no wonderhe is my darlingdad. — 18.06.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons…

can you catch me?

my brain, moresmudge than wrinkled-thinking-machine,eye-to-eye — last week's cold coffee & I — where is the milkin this sugarlessgoodbye. we're lockedbut we're also the key. there is a story withinthese cracks in timid tremble float, afloat.up, up, andaway. — 15.06.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives…

the weight of june

out of curiosity, how does it feel to be the middle month free of fireworks, carols,and turkey? the juicymango sun, the nod-ding daffodils, the terracotta leaves, all are not in your hands. June, doyou feel heavy or light as sand? — 01.06.2021©2021 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under a Creative…

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.…

wishes in the wind

i wish i've puppy-pawsto dig through the muck of this year. i wish i've puppy-eyesto bend my Master's will. i wish i've a puppy-noseto smell happinessfrom a mile. i wish i need not to wish for a real, real smile. — 11.03.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under…

hell’s window

there is a paintingoutside my window, hell magnetingthe day sun's glow. stain of last nightrests on my pillow--- my unraveling with moonlight's bow. feels a few feet frommy reach, the sky, if only dusk can give me wings to fly. — 10.20.2020©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.Photo via Unsplash This work is licensed under…

steps to stay sane: a quadrille

fingers bumbling onblank spaces of boththe web and the tree's skin.grabbing yellows frombumblebees to paintsunsets where freedom wins. stirring orange fromdawn to make a cupof giggling cinnamon. stealing sweetnessfrom apple's bum---to have some sanity won. — 08.25.2020©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…

missing thumb: a quadrille

murderer. i am a murderer of eight. eight innocent lives my hands without green thumbs have ended the purple garden of eight eggplants. i was 15. since then i've not tried to get my fingers dirty, afraid to be a murderer for the ninth time. — 08.11.2020 ©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo…

husband and wife, lockdown edition: a quadrille

screeching tires roared back to life running away from fuming wife, leaving minty toothpaste uncapped, garlic burnt with bitter bite, lockdown birthing silly fights. yet once the stars start blending the night, wheels will return to arms so light, hush, hush, let's not fight. — 05.05.2020 ©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo by…

spring reeks with laughter of birds

April air reeks of unperfumed killer floating with spring, bobbing as daffodils sing, there goes selfish whims ransacking shelves of kindness, in a bid to survive hunger for toilet paper arrived, common sense of supposed "high- er beings" flushed, hummingbirds, sparrows, laugh at us. — 04.21.2020 ©2020 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved. Photo via…