Pointillist II (Day 436)

Breathe hush wind beach fog 

Petal cup hand abundant kiss

Slice green point edge damp

Electric shiver ice steel frost

Marine slough clear shimmer curl 

Breath flow gurgle chime rocks

Bird floral bittersweet wing dust

Knowing warmth wait send tucked

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: Patterns of the superbloom 

at Carrizo Plain National Monument 

Bureau of Land Management/ Flickr

When You Rise (Day 397)

When you rise above 

the clouds  say hello 

to the blue for me

memorize its myriad 

hues and shades from 
ice to indigo  tell me if 
you can see the stars 

when you look up or 

if they are hidden by that 
golden light warming 

your flushed cheeks  rest 
a moment on 
the terrible wind 
that bears you aloft 

and look down on 

the soft undulations of 
the sea stretching like 

bleached cotton sheets 
beneath you  only the quilts 

on our shared bed 

can enfold you as softly  
only my arms support you 
with the strength of that 
high gale and 
the roughest tides 
of time we long to sail 
together will quiet when 
you are near again

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

Image: macayran via Pixabay

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

Under the Weather (Day 323)

Ears ringing like 

a copper kettle: 

Tea time! But no

one is boiling water.

Aching clouds settle 

into bed beneath 

drifts of dreams, 

of coral sand 

and oceans so bright

they hurt your eyes.

One sighs to think

of such things.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Pixabay

Roy G. Biv, Pt. 1: Red (Day 319)

“I’m gonna turn back the clock,” Roy said,

“Or those Liberals’ll paint us Commie red!

Let’s go back to the days of old

When men wore guns, and coal was gold!”

“I’ll build a wall from sea to sea!

They’ll pay the bill, for us it’s free.

It’ll keep us in, and keep them out!”

The crowd cheered so, he had to shout.

“Those nasty women should be banned.

They dare presume to take a stand?

While, we’re at it, Muslims, too—

‘Cause we know what they plan to do!”

Soon, chants arose, of: “Lock her up!”

Rebel flags flew from pick-up trucks.

At racist rallies, all seats were filled.

In Charlottesville, a girl was killed.

Unbelievably, voters believed his lies,

And democracy, in darkness, dies.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: “To begin with, I’ll paint the town red” 

A political cartoon by Grant E Hamilton, 1885

US Library of Congress via Wikimedia

World Like a Cat Toy (Day 313)

Sometimes the world 

feels like a cat’s toy, 

a little blue-green ball, 

new, shiny, frantically 

spun about for a while, 

then batted under the bed 

and soon forgotten. 

For weeks, months, or (yes), 

even years, the toy remains 

inert in dust-laden darkness.

But, on a far-off moving day, 

someone may find it, 

pick it up, and say, 

“Hey, remember this?” 

Then, once again, the little ball 

will enjoy more light and 

find renewed favor, and be 

maniacally spun about, until 

it is batted under the bed again.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Moritz320

Half the Battle (Day 272)

When prepared     You’ve fought half the battle

Don’t you             Worry about me, while you’re away

Make your own    Luck, fate, or invention, they’re your’s, this

Day                       Break, these good intentions, the shiny gold trophy.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image of Puerto Rico: The Brandsmen

Into a Gorge (Day 270)

Last night I 

         subsided into 

a gorge  dark  

  rose and 

     bronze and 

sand  fine and soft 

and deep   closing 

warm  around 

my ankles. Now 

summer  rolling up 

   the snow a dripping 

      towel of cold grit 

and no color on 

   the trees 

coming  tall 

as a wave  high as 

   a delirious flock 

      of Canada geese  

majestic  wise 

carrying our dreams 

to heaven.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: brh1028

Talisman (Day 257)

I am unspooling 

into taupe  liquifying in 

an aqueous netherworld 

of subtlety  gentle understanding 

and ancient knowing dwell here 

among the crystal glimmers 

of possibility

don’t birth me into your world 

of fire  don’t drag me kicking 

and screaming 

against  against  against your  

hot  cold 

white  black  

right  wrong 

sears my eyes  their unquestioning 

allegiance wakes me late at night  

in a sweat of skepticism  

no  allow me to remain  

wallowing in what I do 

not know  wrapped in gray layers 

of of hidden meaning  

a gleaming necklace of human 

teeth my talisman against 

the dreams of others

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

The Talisman, 1888, Paul Sérusier

Cat (Day 216)

Takes his rightful place.

Ringed tail tip, slowly: right, left.

Imprints lap with fur.

(c) by Hannah Six

Image: Charley, H. Six