Poems by PWLF Members

HAIKU  by Paula Collins

Small brown moth,
Like the last violet,
Hypnotized by the waning sun.

Red bird, blue jay,
Eating corn in the walkway.
Life's mysteries unfold.
------

November roses
Blooming in silent witness
To the waning Moon.
-----

Moonlit morning snow
Reflects the silken shadow
Of Mother Crow's wing.

Conversation Starter on Olympus

From one goddess to another, do tell
why women refuse their rightful place
as chosen ones, the strength, the heart and core
of humankind; so certain they are not
of anything beyond the earthly ties
that bind them to some dreary drudgery
made from misconception, blinding them to powers theirs for the taking, available
for the simple price – belief in themselves.

Goddesses all, we are born from one mold
strong in ways different from one another
vulnerable to what we cannot see
when our eyes are shut, closing out the world.

When did being a lady stop
being a Woman,
stop being a wonderful thing?

Siobhan 2/11/03

To Plumb the Violet Depths

One day found his soul empty

no words

no voice

no presence but his own

Hands to heaven

supplicant

no avail

without meaning

words are only sound

God’s voice is thunder

David Pitchford

Columbia is Lost

Oh, that we might right
what seems so very wrong
and piece back together
 the streaking flames
in the Texas morning  sky.

            Joe Coffey 2-1-03

Columbia 2-1-2003

Catch a falling star and
Put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
- fifties song

Passing In the Texan daybreak
the only wish people could make
when they saw that falling star
was that they'd never seen it fall.

 samBdavis

The Gift Her Mother Gave Her

I asked my mother, “Sew me a new shawl,
for Portugal.”  With every stitch, she said,

“I wish you weren’t going.”

“You know I’d go with you, if you could drive there.”

“When your grandmother came to this country, she turned, faced

the direction she had just traveled and cursed.  That’s why I can’t

give you the language, that’s why I can’t go.”

That is what my mother said.

“I’m just giving you what she gave me.”

Fear? I want to ask her. Is that what your mother gave you? 
Instead I say, “This changes everything, I thought you were just
afraid to fly.”

Amy Sayre-Roberts

Absolute Zero

He hasn't reached it yet

still has his health

and the clothes on his back..

David Pitchford

.

Of Cats and Birds and Spring 

The winter holidays are gone.
Their memories lie, bon-bons
in an almost empty box,
their middles squeezed,
the ones nobody wants.

At 4 a.m. I listen to the furnace creak,
pray it lasts a few more weeks
and that the thaw will heal
my aging knees.

The cat wants out;
he's at the door to make a deal.
I pull myself from bed,
feel my way through the darkened house
to have him balk at the snowy porch.
Let's try door number two he seems to say,
sure that on the other side
lay that 7- day, all expenses paid,
tropical island get-away.

Huddled high in the sycamore trees,
mourning doves await the dawn.
If I had wings I wouldn't wait,
I'd be flying far -- far away --
somewhere really, really warm.
I'd be in the catbird seat
instead of counting days till spring.

C. Frisch 02/13/03