A Little Micro-Poetry

Some micro-poetry I've tweeted in the last several weeks, repeated here:

1.
Fields like the world before the Flood,
Mist rising up out of the ground,
Resting in pockets among the cornstalks.

2.
The uncertain voices of children,
Singing off key, softly or shouting,
Is the most beautiful sound in the church.

3.
Our little acre of yard
Is conquered by wild strawberries
And clover.

On Second Thought....

In my little corner of the world, we have enjoyed one the longest springs I can remember with many days of rain and rolling thunder and only one tornado warning. I love thunderstorms like that, and had planned to post a poem about how intoxicating storms can be when they offer no imminent danger. But the recent series of storms that pounded the South, leaving so many dead, injured, or homeless, have made me think better of it. Instead, please enjoy these micropoems I've recently shared on Twitter.

2000 Years Later

Golden trays
Gleaming in candlelight;
Doves diving like hawks
Through intertwined rings
On scarlet cloths.

Church Coffee
Better than most.
Random black guy
Sits at piano in hospitality room
Sings, "It will never fade away,"
And plays like water
Flowing over stones.

Pinewoods

Silver smoke
Caresses each slim needle
And rises on
To join the silver moon.

copyright 2011