I wonder now
if love inspires
or if it’s
just of another
for this love
that I have
found of myself
is a quiet
kind not prone
to any words
but the kind
that I’ve felt
for others screams
from mountain tops
so I think
that the love
for one’s very
own self is
found in valleys
amongst the winding
rivers and prairie
a hushed forest
kind of love
full of pine
needle smells and
times own crunch
Category: Poetry
Dawn
This early
day hush
sounds come
from pipes
and growls
from faraway
thick gray
clouds moan
and sun
sighs behind
Day
Cook and
clean up
too much
at once
I don’t
know how
it’s like
dating someone
I need
a break
in between
to enjoy
Still
In this
moment moments
before start
when all
just is
as before
I stop
and listen
to sweet
melodies of
silence and
deep breaths
of someone
still asleep
Ritual
One lamp on
basket by machine
a naked bed
and windows open
spring pushes past
curtains and covers
a bee line
to the kitchen
tired corduroy slippers
shuffle and slide
that first hit
of hot water
against ground coffee
this morning ritual
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 