fragments of recent dreams – a writing exercise

a hummingbird – gently insistent –
tangled itself into my hair
and peeked from beneath to titter
into my un-understanding ear
***
they showed to me the uneven patch
you had mown in the grass – the short
beside the long – before the star super nova’d
in your chest and you fell to green forever
***
strange gray paint on the pillars
of that house in New Orleans –
I leaned on your rusted red bike,
said the universe wants me to tell you…

© Sarah Whiteley

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tallying the day’s efforts – #2 (the strained back edition)

for two and a half days
a perfect view of pine and sky

now into the third day
spent mostly in bed

ouch has become
an accessory to moving

realized not much
rhymes with ibuprofen

thankful I’m not usually
the rhyming sort

quit counting ceiling cracks
it’ll fall when it falls

still manage to be enchanted
by the junco in the locust leaves

the crows peered in
from the power line once

come out, come out,
two-legs with treats!

the dogs hang back
to keep pace with me

blessings walk with four legs
and have wagging wails

they still stare,
with park in their eyes

three flights of stairs
are suddenly epic

cue internal applause
when I reach the bottom/top

wonder if Hercules
needed analgesics

back to bed again
same damn pine and sky

© Sarah Whiteley

No worries – I am slowly improving. And the dogs have been lovely, though I can see they’re longing for their regular romp in the park. Poor things. I think we’ll all be happy when things get back to normal around here. In the meantime, thank goodness for plenty of books and streaming Netflix.

tallying the day’s efforts – a writing exercise

woke earlier than wanted
later than I ought

could not remember
my dreams

walked the dogs
and watched the juncos

tried to write
nothing would take

sipped bad coffee
and wished for better

had no food for the chickadee
sitting on my window sill

cried for the loss
of a neighbor’s dog

listened to trees
and urged them on

grew too shy
to join in the conversation

blushed too brightly
when someone was kind

smoked too many cigarettes
and got a bit tipsy

waited for someone
who did not come

would not have been
brave enough anyway

fell asleep
tallying the day

probably won’t remember
my dreams

© Sarah Whiteley

Have decided to use this idea as a sort of writing exercise for myself. Might post a few here and there, but really it’s intended to get the internal dialogue happening – to see if I can transition into the beginnings of a poem somewhere. I have to say, it was kind of fun and yes, even a little bit fruitful.