À la prochaine...

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The 31 days of May have come and gone all too quickly once again. Thank you all so much for sharing your voices as well as your ears! I am a better reader and writer for this safe haven called May Day. Et toujours, vous m'aidez . . .
Have a wonderful summer!
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afternoon, (ix)

Apple is her name
but they called
her Mother Mercy,
a girl who nourished
the world's wounded
with love and
spare words
...........one day
she ran out and
no one was there
to nourish poor Apple
with words or
with care

At the corner café
she sits by the window
sipping on her yerba maté.
.

Morning, (vii)

everything in a state
of metamorphosis
..........until it isn't

..........life tasting stale
as day-old bread
an open bottle of wine
i love yous spilled carelessly
last year sometime
.

Evening, (x)

31 mots au mois de mai:
.
.
je me suis endormie
dans ton jardin
…………………….ce soir
sous la tout petite lune
qui flottait
…………………..là-haut

les étoiles s’amusaient
à jouer………cache-cache
…………parmi les branches
bourgeonnantes

c'était beau
comme un rêve.
.

Evening, (ix)

.
build it and she will come
believes the bowerbird
..........meanwhile
..........you and i
eternally searching for
home.
the roar
of easy laughter
behind
a latched door
a whiff of her of him
a key that fits the hole

outside my window
sparrows sing goodnights
balanced on
branches
so elaborately linked
my eyes can't
....................pull
apart the.knotted.elms
as entwined
as two bowerbirds
at
home
.

Evening, (viii)

.
She lies with tired eyes
When the world is asleep
Her toes twinkle to the speed
Of her thoughts

Uncomfortable with the
Idea of endings and beginnings
She can't say if morning
Will come too soon or too late

It is time
That she prays for
Twenty-six hour days
Years that last an eternity

She will run out of time
She worries
Out of time
.................She will run
.

Morning, (vi)

31 mots au mois de mai :


dans un tout petit jardin
sur la lune où j’habite
je m'occupe dignement de:

…..trois petits pois
…..deux marguerites jaunes
…..une rose rose
…..mille(!) libellules blues qui dansent sur mes pieds
.

afternoon, (viii)

31 words in the month of May:

.

.

The artist child took my hand
dipped it into a pot of green plasticine
and asked me to make him a rose.
I did. The artist child likes his green rose.

.

Morning, (v)

.
he left his morning coffee
on the table where i sip
staring at his cup
unstirred

sun pours through
the kitchen window
left open by him
before he disappeared
into his life
again

there were no warnings
no signs that he might
slip away

.......i try to remember
what I told myself
I wouldn't forget
next time




the sun
moves on and
the steam on his
morning coffee
clears
..

Morning, (iv)

.
hope casts a shadow
on all things certain;
did you see the lily bloom?
.

afternoon, (vii)

.
Mémère would have called it ominous,
the dead sapsucker I found
on your doorstep that day.
.....Yet, how beautiful it was,
.....cloaked in its orange and black
.....and white feathers, its tiny
.....bird feet turned toward
.....the sun-filled sky.
.

afternoon, (vi)

.l’homme orange - 3ième partie


je dessine mon cœur sur
un bout de papier,

c’est pour toi, je murmure en coulant

égratigné en forme de lettres
il est là en rouge saignant

c’est trop pesant, tu me dis.

je reprends mon papier
je corrige mon échec et maintenant

tu souris, en voyant mon cœur violet.
.

afternoon, (v)

marjo's meal:
.
I pick the one ripe avocado
nearly black in a sea of grassy greens

I squeeze, salivate this timely promise,
the taste of fruit and nut as
smooth as butter on my tongue

I will serve it on a bed of green leaves
dappled with kumquat, sliced blackberries,
black peppercorns, crushed

I will baptize it in balsamic vinaigrette
and feast on the small true pleasure
that life affords me today.
.

Evening, (vii)

A Walk on the Prairies

.
over ancient land
that whispers
a thousand stories
I walk
..........and with
every step I hear
the song of
mémère's first
footfalls on the
rich prairie soil.

I keep my pace
in time with hers
and through time
and time again
we walk this land
together tied
in yesterday and
..........tomorrow.

to the drum of a
distant history
hand in hand
..........we walk
you and I.
.

Evening, (vi)

.
boughs bend in the wind
casting nest to dark dank earth;
did the songbird sing?
.

Evening, (v)

Fingers scroll your body
explore its furrows
in search
of you
...memorizing
the crinkles that
frame your hazel eyes,
and find the boa concealed
in the fedora that
form the lines of
your lips,
paw the pleats in
your neck, such an
intimate
resting place,
making
their way to
the center of you
...filling your
swimming pool
with fine red wine,
my lips
go for a dip,
get lost for a while
in your navel as I
contemplate
other
secret
hiding places
.

afternoon, (iv)

31 mots au mois de mai:


j’ai laissé ma lune
...............aujourd’hui
me promener dans
ton jardin

…………......…… j’ai frôlé
………......……… tes marguerites jaunes

une coccinelle m’a chatouillé
et j’ai dû m’envoler
……,….....… parmi les pinsons

................on chantait
................à plein poumon

.

Morning, (iii)

31 words (on the subject of hope) in the month of May:


+++
every
day
after day after

she waits

and she
waits and she

wonders
why
......no one told her

how painful hope is
...........................after

the seed
in the garden
remains a seed
.

Evening, (iv)

31 words (on the subject of hope) in the month of May:

++
Wild bluebells appeared
in the barren garden
that spring morning
and she sighed and said,
well, there’s hope yet!

......She remembers this
because a tornado tore through
her garden that evening.
.

Evening, (iii)

31 words (on the subject of hope) in the month of May:

+
He left her that spring,
the day a warm brackish breeze had
delivered seeds to her garden
and hope seemed to float eternal
on the tangerine-crimson sun
that set past eight.
.