When Pluto was a planet
You cleared your neighbourhood
Scooped all the negativity
Flung it to far reaches
You spun in your orbit
So well rounded.
We wanted to come along
But your journey is long
and oh, so cold.
Where you are looking
impacts what you see.
I’m looking at you.
You’re not looking at me.
Now Pluto’s a dwarf planetoid
because it doesn’t bring friends
on its journey,
like staying along is what a
far out, cold planet wants.
Remember when Pluto was a planet
and there was a we.
poem-cold memories January 16, 2024
poem-winter steps January 14, 2024
The hearty souls maintain
their exercise programs
as the temperatures plummet.
–no bad weather
. only bad clothes!
They’ll walk with spike studded boots
. or snowshoes
They slide along on skis
minus five
minus ten
minus fifteen
minus twenty
minus twenty-five
minus thirty
Such dedicated athletes!
I am not so dedicated to fresh air.
I’m dancing in the living room
waving my arms around
sweatin’ to the oldies
getting in my daily steps
while watching warmly from my window
at those hearty cold souls.
poem- summer spectre November 15, 2022
The mountains are a
ghostly presence,
faint phantoms
looming above the lake,
wisps over white paint palette
there
not there
Winter hovers
over misty memories
of summer storms.
poem- This is just to say November 13, 2022
(with apologies to William Carlos Williams)
.
This is just to say
I have eaten
The last
of the tortilla chips
I know you
Were saving them
For a bedtime snack
But like you
they were salty
And so delicious.
How could I resist?
poem- changes September 28, 2022
Trust is broken
Sunshine days form golden hues
Begin new season
.
.
This is a Collom lune, a triplet poem with lines of 3, 5, 3 words.
poem- What wind brings September 20, 2022
What wind brings
Don’t wrap this silence in your memory
Gather the fallen
leaves
Your departure: a beginning.
Going means coming to understand
Summer wildfires
Sometimes ashes fall
Sometimes rains wash everything
away
Sometimes snow rises to the eaves
Don’t wrap this silence in your memory.
There’s something new on the breeze.
poem-less anxious September 16, 2022
Dark dusky sky
Gulls cry
Gliding by, wings wiping at air
Diving down to thieve
Thoughts of tomorrow
Wasting no worries
On what might not be.
Poem- Cold Comfort pantoum August 24, 2022
COLD COMFORT
(by Shawn Bird and the 2021 En 11-A class)
.
Something burns on a winter night
I smell the smoke and see the fire
Reflections on the snow are bright
The dreams to which I aspire
.
I smell the smoke and see the fire
What hopes linger in the dark
The dreams to which I aspire
Rise to the sky in flickering sparks
.
What hopes linger in the dark
Cradling cocoa in my hands
Rise to the sky in flickering sparks
My heart longs to dance
.
Cradling cocoa in my hands
Warm steam tickling my nose
My heart longs to dance
And waken my frost-bitten toes
.
Warm steam tickling my nose
The family encircles the flames
And waken my frost-bitten toes
Relaxing after winter games
.
The family encircles the flames
Reflections on the snow are bright
Relaxing after winter games
Something burns on a winter night
.
A pantoum is written in quatrain stanzas with lines 2 and 4 of each stanza repeating as lines 1 and 3 of the subsequent stanza until the last stanza, which circles back to the beginning, with line 2 being line 3 of the first stanza and line 4 being the first line of the poem. There are no rhythm rules so line lengths can vary. It is amazing how impactful this repetition proves to be.
If you try it, do post a link to your pantoum in the comment section!
poem- Daddy’s sweater December 17, 2021
I am zipped up in Daddy’s green sweater.
Mom knitted, purled, cabled together
some semblance of love.
He wore it with joy almost every day,
telling all admirers how it was made with love.
It’s wrapped around me,
but it’s not his firm arms,
not his smell (which wasn’t peppermint
or aftershave, but just him),
not his whisper in my ears,
Love you so much.
How can another year have past
without him? How can a sweater
be both so full
and so bereft of him?
Crushed December 15, 2021
Beneath the rock slide
I lie gasping.
So many stones squashing
the life out of me,
Covid, isolation, tension,
anxiety in others,
illness, recent deaths,
responsibility, each a
pebble piled
until breathing seems
an impossibility.
Where is the safety crew
to clear the debris
so we can be well,
be free of despair,
be who we used
to be.
Shawn L. Bird 