Black Coffee in Handpainted Mug (Day 393)

too bitter 

to ignore 

the purr it 

releases  finding 

purchase on 

the porcelain 

glaze  cobalt 

perfection  

devoid of 

the grit and 

fingerprints 

one might expect 

on an everyday

object made 

of clay intricately 

painted by a 

tired-eyed woman 

in a dusty 

crowded room

so far away 

I cannot begin 

to imagine 

the language

she speaks

in her dreams.

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

He Cannot Pronounce Her Name (Day 311)

Unsayable, a scree of consonants

piled up at the base, he cannot

pronounce her name. Love, dear,

darling, forever come simply and

easily as sugar in coffee, 

the way she fixes it for him 

in the morning while he showers, 

rinsing off the night’s dreams, 

that dark oily scent clinging 

to the steam, making his mouth 

water like it does when he wants

 to kiss her unglossed lips 

the way they are in the morning 

when she wakes up, rosy 

and puffy with sleep, warm 

as a winter fire after a midnight walk 

on new snow, when the world 

glows bright as a full moon, 

and the drifts shimmer, casually

heaped against the fences,

already pitted, collapsing 
like those consonants at the end 
of her name, which he cannot, 
could never, pronounce.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Skeeze via Pixabay

First Cup (Day 284)

morning blue 

as twilight 

first sunbeams 

kiss my cup

ghostly steam 

pirouettes

(c) by Hannah Six

Image: bark via Flickr

Dripping Words (Day 260)

old-fashioned roses 

russet pathway 

wends  hard-edged 

encircling a bench 

we chose in glossy 

April’s warmth  coffee 

cups in hand  legs 

splayed casually  

sunshine fierce  naïve 

and future-bound  

doubtless   in cocoons  

humming and content  

dripping words that 

never mattered as much 

as what we meant

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Patience (Day 232)

Collecting damp grass 

clippings on her hands, 

sweet Patience cartwheels 

into the clear 

evening, and nods to 

the butterfly circle. 

Wise, they may be, 

she knows, but excessively 

fond of treacle. Eyeing 

their clutter of clumsy wings, 

she says, to herself: 

“And it shows.” 

In their gossipy klatsch,

the mavens sip tea, 

while catching their friends 

telling lies. 

Fluttering, feigning, reluctant 

to reveal what each knows 

is her own thin disguise, 

they reign over the lawn, 

where Patience is 

yawning, stretched out

beneath a ring of

portly lepidopterans.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: public domain

Indulgence No.3 (Day 231)

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image of cake & coffee by Michael Stern

Two Haiku, Two Senryu (Day 124)

Photo: Marabuchi

Birds versus squirrels 

Locked in eternal battle 

Sharing the same tree

***

Rabbit stretches tall

Craning his neck to nibble

Sweet, young poppy leaves

***

Friday: hot humid

Saturday: sweater weather

Mid-Atlantic May

***

Chic woman with scarf

Insouciantly knotted

matches her flowers

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Words Fail (Day 118)

Some days the words fail
You refusing to come home
Leaving the Muse alone
With silence
Like a barren page



(c) 2017, by Hannah Six