Tag Archives: poetry

Waking up in June

Two things:

1. I’m on vacation!

2. A poem:

Waking up in June

Hey Koolaid, get your summer on
Morning dew but I don’t
back down.

School’s out
fools out
Watch me swing so high the chain goes slack
squealing on the breathcatch dizzy-down
higher than you.

Race me to the corner
no—the pool
no—the end of the world
I’ve got all summer to beat you.

Popscicle, bicycle, flycycle
Barefoot and coppertoned, hear my rally call:
I’ve got a pool pass, wanna see it?
Olly olly oxen free!
Jarful of night and firefly
I don’t see no streetlights. I can stay out late ya know
Twenty-five cents buys a fresh box of crayons
Do ya wanna know a secret?
Look inside:

I’ve got a million colors





I missed last week, and this week’s entry to the Friday Fictioneers is light at a mere 41 words. But I really, really mean them.


PHOTO PROMPT ©David Stewart

PHOTO PROMPT ©David Stewart

when the chairs are folded

and the stands laid flat
and every last instrument
is fitted forever

each to their own velvety case

and the night quiets to crickets
and jasmine blooms unscented on sleeping wind
i will love you




To read more Friday Fictioneer 100-word takes on this photo prompt or to enter your own, click the blue froggy button.


Thanks Rochelle & David Stewart & all the Friday Fictioneers.

More Poetry by My Dog

My dog is on a roll–she wrote another poem. This one is for my daughter:


I love the girl
Just my size
laughy chasey fun
I love the girl
Easy treats
free cheese and table drops
I love the girl
Sleeptight stayclose
guardian me
I love the girl.

It probably doesn’t make up for the fact the dog chewed the girl’s princess crown to pieces last night, but I guess it’s a good start.

My Small Stone

Vikki, over at The View Outside got my wheels aspinnin’ when she posted about the Small Stones challenge. And while January is too far gone for me, I decided it was never too late to be mindful of the five senses. But the one that stuck in my head and wouldn’t go away wasn’t even my senses, it was my dog’s senses. And it wasn’t just five, I suspect a sixth.

A poem:

dog inhales the world,
breathing every shape of dogs passed
brown rabbit’s run
a foreign salt truck’s rumble
and underneath…
the dark scent
of the mailman’s intentions.