Being Close to Lions

Describe a risk you took that you do not regret.

In open safari vehicle

my driver Robert

drives right up on the lions

who have killed and eaten

a water buffalo

of last night’s kill

I can smell the carcass

and hope that they

are too full

to find interest in me

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Being Close to Lions

My Daughter Remembers

My mother gave me Grapenuts

while other kids got Frootloops

those artificially-colored

little donut shaped

sugar puffed

cereals

in

box

with a toucan

singing commercials

guiding me through the taste

smells and sight of delicious like

candy breakfast nutrition created

to make me want more and more

dVerse prompt— a fruitloop (sp) daydream

My Daughter Remembers

Together

Oh to be able to taste again

I have forgotten what breakfast tastes like

In the sunlight

Hard to tell which part of the body is singing

Too cute

I search the day for pretty words

Coffee coffee buzzbuzzbuzz

So it is settled

This is how the end comes

It is as hot as Texas

There is something about a Queen

I sleep deeply under the strawberry moon

________________

dVerse prompt to take first line of first poem written in each month of 2022. I wasn’t very prolific this year so had to snitch a couple of lines.

Together

Minnet

New Year’s Day was a birthday for my second born and a smorgasbord for the relatives. Pickled herring, cheeses and pressgurkin, gravlax, pate, pepparrot, Janssons frestelse, kuttbullar, sometimes lutefisk, bruna bonor, appelflask, oxrelader.

Akvavit poured in just the right amount. How we linked arms and shouted “skol”. I can still hear my mother-in-law’s voice, “That will warm the cockles of your heart.”

midwinter hoarfrost

crispy sharp on old flowers

cold stabs in the mind

_______________

dVerse haibun prompt on New Year memory. Forgive my Swedish spelling.

Minnet

This is how the end comes

This is how the end comes.

It is wrapped in silver like a gift.

The gift is most welcome,

eager to see what is inside.

Inside was not what I wanted.

It was full of memory.

Each memory had a story.

They played inside my head.

The head was filled with irrelevance,

as I sought for the divine.

What could be more sought after

than a life of heartfelt love?

In love with the only One—

this is how the end comes.

____________

NaPoWriMo Day 27 prompt to write a duplex sonnet.

This is how the end comes

Christ’s Entry

I can’t really say I loved him. Love does not come easy for me. He was my first kiss, a little bit of making out, kind words from his thin lips.

I went on to guard the pool, to save a life, my tanned olive skin a beacon for men. Then one day a man walked through the gate and I watched his choppy strokes across the water and married him.

We vowed to love art. To make art out of our lives. We traveled both locally and abroad but that huge painting on the Getty wall stays with me— Christ’s Entry into Brussels in 1889 by James Ensor.

When will He come?

_________________

NaPoWriMo Day 21 prompt— a person forgotten, a job taken, a memorable piece of art, an unanswerable question

https://smarthistory.org/ensor-christs-entry/

Christ’s Entry

Underwater

When I was ten, I learned to swim. To hold my breath, submerge, and move underwater. Only the torso, legs and arms of other people were visible. No heads. I never timed these underwater adventures but swam about like some kind of fish. Eyes open but no gills; just my expanded lungs, increasing capacity to stay under longer and longer. I became an orca scouting its prey. My feet, the fluke, pounding surface with each new breath. My mouth spewing water into the sunshine.

______________

NaPoWriMo Day 8 prompt to write your alter ego.

Underwater