Poetry

Poetry http://poetry.nxivm.com poetry 2008-06-08T00:26:44Z Before and then beginning of a summer rainstorm http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1790 The way plants come out the rocks that sit in pools at their feet. The way the wind speaks when it comes through our garden before a rain. The way you run into the house when it does, sand still in your toes shoes in your hand. General 2008-06-07T21:35:26Z ariella Plum tree http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1788 Once, there was a plum tree. It hovered like a cloud in an old lady’s black-fenced terrace. The lady took one photograph of the tree each year for its birthday to remember the day she’d planted its seed and posted these photos like magnets onto her fridge door.  Each winter, the tree shivered in the wind, restless and alone. It feared it always would be. General 2008-06-06T19:49:53Z ariella This flower http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1786  Stems hold perfect petals that droop. Crimson dust is sprinkled on insides and buds stick out like tongues. Drops of rain sit quietly on their edges.   General 2008-06-06T02:19:27Z ariella Why I love this tree http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1785  The way it twists on itself, curls up, then reaches out. The way it cushions itself from all sides. Come closer: the trees’ branches hold others, hold even groups of leaves that each branch out. In the after-rain wind, the tree’s leaves move in clusters like hands in a wave.   General 2008-06-06T02:16:35Z ariella Bed http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1782 You ate mountains of ice cream and loose corn chips lay singled out on your big silky bed. Don’t tell Dad, you said while we slept. It all happened in passing. We almost forgot the whole thing. General 2008-06-04T03:25:45Z ariella Kitchen http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1778 Sunday evening and the cars still speed past our yard. Through the neighbour’s barred-up window, I imagine her sit as she listens to this, our fights, the cold fall wind as it sweeps through. The solitude of her one piece of toast on her one kitchen plate is almost enough to swallow her whole. General 2008-06-01T23:39:36Z ariella Backyard http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1776 Sunny Saturdays in June and the screen door never gets shut. The boys are out back building their own little world out of rocks, branches with leaves still attached. They give themselves names for just this place and fill it with kings and dragons. No one sees you here as you watch from your kitchen window. General 2008-06-01T01:30:04Z ariella This ant http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1774 This ant scurries down wooden garden slats into dirt worlds like he’s crawling into bed. Here, his whole world circles him like piles of spiraling towers. It becomes him as he chases himself in his work, inward, then out. General 2008-05-30T23:07:21Z ariella Tree http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1772 When I’m old, I’ll stand as tall as that tree that waves at me in the wind, its branches deep forest brown, as brown as the insides of the Earth. When I’m old, I’ll stand tall of the edges of this planet like two leaves that meet, then branch out like butterflies. General 2008-05-29T00:21:35Z ariella Crows http://poetry.nxivm.com/post/62/1769 Rain and white petal parts still sit in pools all over our yard. It’s almost summer, and wind carries the warm smell of rain. The crows nearby still shout, waiting. General 2008-05-26T23:59:40Z ariella