SALMONBELLIES

SALMONBELLIES

fish canneries on stilts on the Fraser
distant haunting sockeye
chanting sacred salmon songs
staring with bulging eyes into the water
enchanted with the waiting gillnets
stuffed with rust for their throats
delighted we are not fishermen
we are Salmonbellies
lacrosse is our game

.................I do not like explaining my poetry...however I will this time....I grew up in New Westminster B.C. on the banks of the Fraser....played lacrosse in the fabled NW Salmonbellies organization.

AUTUMN MORNING

this is a slight variation of poem AUTUMN MIST...from WWP ...only using three words from the wordle in red


AUTUMN MORNING

every morning I awake to the ravens chant
as the ochre leaves fall over the garden
plants braided by forget-me-nots and tears
summertime now sleeping inside the pods
old roots hide as they feel the snow coming
orange poppies skirt the wind before dying
half-eaten garlic falls to my hands
I rise to the autumn morning

AUTUMN MIST

first line in italics credit Fireflies-Owl City


AUTUMN MIST

I'd like to make myself believe
every morning an ochre color falls from the tree
which the ravens spread over the garden
the plants braided by forget-me-nots and tears
summertime which was awake now sleeps inside the pods
the old roots hide as they see the snow coming
the orange poppies contemplate the wind without dying
the garlic fall to my hands I raise
I believe
in the autumn mist

Haiku

planning new upstairs floor
in the wood grains observing
winter landscapes