Autumn runs through
my fingers and winter
a hidden spring fringed
lush with lichen and
fronds nodding in
the watery exhalation
where cool rises from
the earth blue and deep
enough to dive to sink
into when September is yet
distant the faintest
suggestion of relief around
the day’s persistent edges
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Halcyoon (CC BY-SA 4.0)
Televisions tuned like sharks
to blood and mayhem leaking
Caribbean light into the once-dark
world through windows
like stages on which each night
neighbors’ family dramas are
presented for our viewing pleasure
though we abstain preferring
the well-worn company of our own
quiet breathing hands loosely
entwined as we amble
beneath a spinning diamond sky
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Dominika Roseclay/Pexels
It’s not far to walk
in the rain
warm concrete
steam and ozone
perfume
It’s not far to walk
in the rain
tires hissing and
buckled sidewalks
darkening
If you know where
you come from
you’ll know
where to go
If you know where
you’re going
you’ll get there
in time
It’s not far to walk
In the rain
remembering how
your world shone
in the sun
The road’s hardest
when you feel alone
but it’s not far
not too far to walk
in the rain
on your own
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Pexels
Snow-swathed fields glisten
Bells peal, shatter brittle air
Steam wraiths rise and stretch
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Since that day a door closed
gray as iron and twice as cold
The mirror of tragedy suddenly
burst into garlands of sparkling
spring and the deep sighing
sky seeps in around the edges
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Mark Fasse (CC BY-SA 3.0)
impulsive earth
living and dying and living
again allowing
for mysteries
for hillsides of sunflowers tracking
the slow progress of hours
for swathes of ancient evergreens
obsured by pearl-tinged showers
for the echo of spiraling galaxies
in even the smallest nautilus shell
our handful of minor comforts
a destination worth defending
this dream
from which we never want to wake
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: NASA/ESA
Centuries have unfolded
since he
last reached out
caressed
dark weighted keys
his hand
warm graceful
and they aligned
in stark formation have been
kind to him to we
who knew
him
who sang
him
like a woodlark’s song
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Edgar Degas, Four Dancers (1899),
oil on canvas, via Wikimedia Commons
This cavorting careless
as March
winds indigo-stained
grave words
barbed serrated
trickling across the page
or splayed arcane
secrets exposed apricots
split kernels
revealed received
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: PxHere
looking away, shadows
stand out in stark contrast
indifference, like smoke,
softens bitter edges
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Neal Herbert/US NPS
The sun pricked diamonds
in the air we sat
so still barely moving
under the leaden afternoon heat
in a berry-drenched murmur
kind carmine Os scattered gemlike
in the grass at our feet
dreaming of the future ancient
and withered almost quieter than
the vivid lichen-scarred prairie
persuasive as summer
definite as January
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Jakob Koganowsky, Farmhouse in the Summer
Light (1927), oil on canvas, via Wikimedia Commons
dusk-speckled wings
whirl buffeting window
screens eclipsing
porch lights fluttering
after immortality
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: PxHere
where silvery clouds
sway and waltz swirling
across the pristine
cinnamon floor blooming
generous kisses melt
a damask night
averting innocence and
quenching vigorous thirsts
(c) 2019, by Hannah Six
Image: Wilhelm Gause, Court Ball at
the Hofburg (1900), via Wikimedia Commons
