Ugly: Poem 97

An ending so ugly 

it takes

my breath 

away 

stay 

far away from me

and make yourself

a home 

where people 

like you

    like you

a gaping void now 

yawning black

and silent

    oh so peaceably silent

that your absence

makes my heart ring

and my ears 

grow quite suddenly 

fonder

(c) 2013 by Hannah Six

Ugly: Poem 97

Poem 96: Six Silver Carp

six silver carp 

rolled and twinkled 

with secret amusement 

looking askance 

at the rumors 

from far away

cautiously interrupting

the promise you blurted 

furtively praying 

for my forgiveness

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem 96: Six Silver Carp

Poem 95: True

Today, there is only one blossom 

on the plum tree by the door. 

Come sit with me and rest a while; 

the porch is sweetly cool. 

Tomorrow, perhaps, those petals 

will fall--I'll still be here with you.

And when night overtakes the garden, dampening the chill air with her breath, we'll watch the stars turning, 

slowly, from our porch swing, 

your hand a blossom in mine.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

The Albert Stevens Inn, Cape May, NJ

(Photo: Christopher D. Six)

Poem 95: True

Poem 94: Circles

what you have 

to say is meaningless 

because 

           you 

               talk 

                  in 

        circles 

anyway 

where am I 

supposed to go 

when everyone 

I know 

tells me 

one 

thing and 

does another? 

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem 94: Circles

Poem 93: Ordinary

Creamsicle cat

Has sixteen whiskers

All of them white, but one.

Draped like a scarf

Across my pillow, 

He wakes, lifts his head, 

And trills a soft question.

One brown whisker

Among all the pink, 

And white,

And apricot--

A reminder that, while

Elegant and lithe,

Beloved and beautiful,

He is not precious,

But ordinary,

And gorgeously at peace

With his ordinariness 

And his single, brown whisker. 

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem 93: Ordinary

Poem 92: Submerged (Ocean City, Md., June, 2013)

Submerged

(Ocean City, Md., June, 2013)

From shore, hardly a splash was heard when the spiraling, two-seat plane hit the water.

Aghast, the people stood among their umbrellas in oily bronze-pink-and-white clusters, looking out to sea, shielding their eyes against the glare with hands, hats, and celebrity magazines.  

Some asked, uncertainly, if they shouldn't do something.

Their quieter neighbors secretly looked forward to exciting gossip in the restaurants that night.

At the water's hissing edge, children continued to splash and build sand castles on the hard wet sand.

Others, seeing their parents' expressions, wondered nervously if they should stop having fun now.

Half a mile out, the fuselage slipped--unassumingly, without a trace--beneath the surface.

Smooth, blue-green swells rolled in from the east, as if nothing extraordinary had happened at all.

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Photo: Tiago Fioreze

Poem 92: Submerged (Ocean City, Md., June, 2013)

Sanctuary (Poem 91)

Sanctuary

praying 

        ferns 

sweep the darkness 

from ancient 

        pagan idols'

lichen-clad feet

courtly 

        bowing 

            deeply

tasting the lurid 

        honey

of diluvian decay

  re/

  in/

      spiring 

their fog-enfolded 

         sanctuary

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Sanctuary (Poem 91)

Poem 90: Tumbling

sweet, the tumbling

sliding into dreams unbroken

vast, opaque, the snowfall

words unspoken

glanced at sideways 

or altogether disregarded

silent, then 

so low, the hard ground 

wide open, clover 

sweet green apronfuls

a gentle place 

to land, unbroken, and 

a place to rest

(c) 2013, by Hannah Six

Poem 90: Tumbling