Author: Susan Manners

Morning Still

The morning light never broke
Thick fog hovered deep above
Smooth still lake as the boat
Slid silently cutting the still

Standing in the rolling mist
The lone lonely man gently
Tossed his thin rod flipping
The line aloft far out of sight

The distant muffled splash of
The float breaking the glassy
Surface the only sound in the
Standing still quiet morning calm

Lost Time Hello

Wait for me on the corner my love
The walk is long but with each breath
Every step I’m closer to your touch hello

I make my way remembering your hello
The first night I knocked before our love
Was born our wary glances nervous breath

I quicken my pace my heart rate my breath
All faster as I rush for your sweet smile hello
Last turn maddening crowd searching love

All this time now just breath hello my love

King of the House

He’s the king of the house
But a patsy outside when
She’s lurking he cowers and
Shrinks dodging pounces
And the screams of attack
Of her clawless friendship
He undoubtedly forgets his
Could cut or slice when
She rolls him twice down
The hill by the pool deck
Defensive is his favorite
Position the second she
Arrives on the other side
Of the door enthusiasm
(or love)
Carries him into the fight
We call her The Interloper

Lonely Late Departure

The judgmental might call her
The Patron Saint of Liars
But to those who knew her
BossyPants was far more accurate
Her determination was unmistakable
And people scurried to clear a path
As she set her destination on
Yosemite by way of The Bean Tree
Lacing one Blue Shoe at a time
She harnessed The Power of Focus
Head down she missed noticing
The shimmering Moon Light in Snow
At her lonely late departure
“I’ll forget My Life So Far”
She thought as she took the
First crunchy unknown step

Today’s poem was prompted by book
titles from a shelf in my house.
There are eight titles included.

Between

Between the car and the house
Forsythia is glowing gold tonight
Stretching the driveway’s length
Enveloping the split rail poking
From the hedge’s rough tawny end
Signaling its yellow days are short

Sad willow laments fading yellow
Casting shadows of grief with
Elegant pistachio whip branches
Dripping invisible soaking tears
Quenching thirsty grass greening
By equal degrees as yellow fades

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA