She Wished to Arrive... (Day 427)

she wished to arrive 

before the others 

disappeared 

into a neighboring party

this had happened

why when one is in a rush 

does every road 

suddenly burst 

into garlands of traffic

interrupted only 

by red lights and 

drowsy lumbering busses

that evening it seemed 

all those wide empty highways 

had suddenly shrunk 

down to two lanes 

simply in order to delay her 

arrival

stepping into the room 

she was momentarily disoriented

as if she had just jumped 

into a deep hot bath

anyone who sensed her 

anxiety perhaps assumed it 

explained her unusually

perfunctory handshakes and 

neutral cheek-busses

which had always been quite lavish 

as she understood it 

should be among friends

anyone who sensed her

would know just why she was

there and what strange

primal instinct

had drawn her 

like a fluttering summer insect

to a porch light at dusk

she closed her wide lips 

around an olive 

and chewed like a man 

on a thought 

that would normally have 

made all the difference 

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

In memory of Sue Grafton, whose mystery novels I’ve 

so enjoyed, and whose words inspired it.

Beach Fire (Day 328)

Freighters’ lights, like stars,

glimmer and swim

in the distance. Between swells, 

they fall from view. Our eyes 

track their progress, instinctively

seeking their reappearance

each time they drop into vast 

watery valleys below the black 

horizon. Watching driftwood burn,

we feel the cold sand dampening.

Nearby, waves tumble and hiss,

closer now than before. The tide 

is turning. We must go.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Aris_Tsitiridis

When the Magic Ends (Day 282)

When the magic 

ends

and the music 

winds down, find 

the one who’s still 

around,

helping you sweep up 

the fairy dust

and 

carrying dishes

to the sink. 

Choose him. 

You may not think 

so now, but he 

is the answer 

to those prayers 

and wishes—

the one 

who stays

after the party,

instead of leaving 

you

to clean up 

the mess

while he follows 

the rest of the crowd.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: Wonderlane via Flickr

Decadent Elders (Day 273)

decadent elders tucked 

  away 

in black cashmere 

     ghostly 

clouds of smoke 

and silken shame 

       swirl  

excuses ugly 

in their chests none but 

the youngest 

meet the eye 

          glimmer 

of voices cherished 

      proclaim 

sparkling raised 

   to block 

the noonday sun 

     without 

that special something fun  

   you just can’t live 

so generously 

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six

Image: The End of Dinner, 1913, Jules-Alexandre Grün

Suddenly, a Flash (Day 165)

Suddenly, a flash of autumn 

splashes across the glittering 

pavement. Hand-clasped 

couples sway close to whisper, 

then they part, gliding, floating

toward the flame: a relucent scene, 

framed by doors thrown wide 

open to the jasmine-perfumed night.

(c) 2017, by Hannah Six