A trifle is an insignificant thing
but not so when set within a trifle bowl
filled to the brim with
custard, cake, whipped cream
and pudding or gelatin
Any of which is itself complete
but oxymoronically a trifle is not trifling feast.
poem-heel! June 6, 2015
Her heels
hold back healing
but she feels
without stealing
opportunities for heels
her soul won’t heal,
whole soles heal heels.
.
.
(wishful thinking, that.)
poem- pickled October 3, 2014
Mrs. Pickle
taught me much about
acidic Southern charm.
Vitriol dripped from her tongue
like garlic scented vinegar
stirred into syrup: bitter honey.
Against her absurdity, laughter made a bulwark.
A champion rose up,
waving a sword of words that
sliced that pickle into tiny pieces.
A memory to relish.
Shawn L. Bird 