Tag: sky

insomnia

craving stars, I crept down the crouching hallway, disturbing only moths seeking their own small allowance of light trees sleep, lowering their limbs by fractions as the day subsides, leaving only the incremental gestures of slumber I have had to explain often the peculiar edicts … Continue reading insomnia

almost spring moon

the insistence of clouds
makes of this a barely moon –
a struggle against
the low skies of winter

and yet yesterday
I watched a robin stridently pipe
his wish for a willing wife
from the top of the power pole

spring, though still disguised
in her winter veil,
emerges from the damp –
shyly purple, in violets

© Sarah Whiteley

evening fragment

I am transfixed
by the kiss
of sickle moon
to black pine
against infinite
ink of sky

© Sarah Whiteley

Anyone else catch that large and glorious crescent moon in the sky a few nights ago? So beautiful!

let me be small

if, every now and again,
I must be smaller than myself –
then let me be small

let me curl into gray
unknowing stone, or disperse
downward as rain on windows

but let me be small
in the way of violets,
which at their core

are no less expansive
than the most colossal
of radiant skies

© Sarah Whiteley

color study – sky

let this be be the color of the sky –

shades of rain and chicory
and cloud shadow slants
on broken-stalked plain
weathered white porch eaves
where the speckle-winged moths
flit on evening’s brim
with the last long curls
of the iris slowly fading
from its porcelain vase

© Sarah Whiteley

a few dried blooms

I have reconciled myself to much lately
perhaps too much so
and now the hydrangeas
have lost their azure
bleached to bone-papered petals
kissed too closely by the sun
come fall I would have picked
bloom by bloom the dusky blues
and purples from their globes
as they dried for a bit of color
to scatter across the table
but today the possibility
vanished into dry disappointment
if I could just instead pluck
a few small pieces from the sky
of that certain blue with the gold-tinged
hue of days’ slow slide into early autumn
I would not so mind the loss
of a few dried blooms

© Sarah Whiteley