Rough Cover (Poem 219)

blanket of unconsciousness, dull,

the weft, dense, fuzzy weeds, 

mementos of a life, the rough 

weave of the real, vast world

linen, strong and durable, coarse

wool, speckled, here and there, 

with grass, leaves, and 

the occasional surprise

of honeyed January heat,

when tender petals unfurl into 

the oncoming white, 

then fade, wither, and fall

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Lace (Poem 218)

Brilliant as a Bahamian 

beach, sinuous as a flute 

in a Mozart concerto,

glossy silk unfurls 

and furls patiently, 

a whisper guided by 

a dream and a gentle touch. 

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Syrian Lullaby (Poem 217)

There is a sweetness in the air, 

but we fear it may be poison gas.

There is a slight chill in the air, 

but autumn's lost its charm. 

There is a peaceful silence here, 

since the soldiers left, at last. 

There is a sweetness in the air, 

a broth of weeds and bones. 

There is a slight chill in the air,

without my child in my arms. 

There is a peaceful silence here, 

now that we've left our homes. 

There is a sweetness in the air.

There is a sweetness...

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

MElting* (Poem 216)

Some days I'm the Wizard;

Others, I feel like 

     Wicked Witch goo.

Nothing for it but to rest,

So, for tonight, 

    this rhyme will have to do.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

*Thanks for understanding!

By the way... ME = Myalgic Encephalomyelitis. You can learn more here: http://www.meassociation.org.uk/about/what-is-mecfs/

Winter Verse (Poem 215)

It's winter 

     And my toes are cold

It's winter

     And the coffee's brewed

It's winter

     And the does grow bold

Searching for a meal

Where sweet green grass once grew

It's winter 

     And the frost has formed

It's winter

     And the fire's bright

It's winter 

     And your hands are warm

In the brown wool gloves

I knit for you last night

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Last Apple (Poem 214)

When the tree flowered

We felt such joy, but today

The last apple fell.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Photo: Arnstein Rønning

The Peak (Poem 213)

Like silver, the light, burnished

and reflecting the glow of

the sun's loving gaze

Like gold, the clouds, billowing

forth with abandon from 

their own illuminated dreams

Like bronze, the peak, streaming

and resplendent in the last rays

of the day before the storm 

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

(Mt. Rainier, November Sunset)