The Little Sadness Poem

You ask,

what is it that isn't there?


The color of the trees

before their limbs went bare.

What is it that isn't there?

A sweater that you wore

held a single strand of hair.

What is it that to speak of it

would show how much I care?

What remains is like music

that once floated in the air.

Ghazal for Autumn

fall
Originally uploaded by garagesoap

Ghazal for October


Nights cold, days sweater warm, the leaves blushed,
wrapped in red and gold for their date in October.


Behind the brown prickly heads of coneflowers
Grew peach-colored mums at the gate in October.


The moonlit walk through the dark dry leaves with candy
on our tongues, such sweet dreams, the bait in October.


The warm kitchen smells of cinnamon and apples.
Please… One more piece on my plate in October!


On the horse-pulled cart, a vine of voices,
Jostle to our pumpkin patch fate in October.


My dog picks up his gait in October
Cool weather stepping for our Nate, in October.


The forest symphony quit. Crickets and peepers
Packed their instruments and now its silent, late in October.

Ghazal's written inspired by Miss Rumphius Effect
Please let me know if you can't find the Ghazal for October (Problem with the HTML).
If you haven't read a ghazal before :

1. Each couplet is its own jewel. Couplets are not related. Perhaps, emotionally but not semantically.

Cicada by Roberto Zingales

Cicala - balm-cricket
Originally uploaded by CyboRoZ

Inspired by Miss Rumphius and Wallace Stevens (of course)

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Cicada in August

I
Within the forest oaks
the only sound is the drum
of the male cicadas.
II
I was of one mind
like the patient oak
that waits the cicadas' climb.
III
The cicada flew into the glass.
It buzzed on its side
like a broken pinwheel
in the wind.
IV
It's one with the marvelous heroes:
The cicada climbs the nearest support,
splits open its shell
and emerges.
V
I do not know which amazes more:
The slow underground life of the young,
or the sight of nymphal skins in August's trees.
VI
The fans blew the hot air
across the room.
Pages curled on the desk.
Far off they were climbing.
Their small sound organ
thunderous.

VII
You admirers of feathered wings,
Do you not see
the long translucent beatings
of this tiny bright eyed thing?
VIII
I know scales and arpeggios,
the tyranny of the bow,
but the cicada
knows the essence
of what I hope to know.
IX
When the cicada
moved on
the oak tree slept.
X
As the cicadas sing
together, throwing their rhythm
into the darkness,
even the bomba dancer
cannot command the beat.
XI
She sped her sports car over highways
her wrists clicking with bracelets.
At night she dreams
all her charms and rings
are cicadas with emeralds
for wings.
XII
The leaves are turning.
The old cicadas must be dying.
XIII
It was hot and humid all day and evening.
The clouds came.
The cicadas clung
to their branches.

Leonardo da Vinci Park ~
Originally uploaded by alicepopkorn - busy

I will bring an umbrella. One should never forget their umbrella.
Photo by Alicepopkorn-busy a Flickr.com

LEONARDO DA VINCI PARK (for Isabella)

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
an apple for my teacher, and an anteater because picnics always have ants and I am bringing butter biscuits
in case there aren't any ants.


Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
crunchy cashews, and a chirpy chimpanzee,
some delicious dumplings, dazzling diamonds
Elegant eggplants and even eclairs for
the fairies found in the flowers.


Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
galloping gazelles, high stepping horses,
and individually wrapped icecreams
just in time for jumping with my friends
Jane, Jasmin, and Junette.
.


Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
from Australia a Kangaroo who gets a kick out of kielbasa
and one lively lioness
who loves lunaria, and many marvelous monkeys
full of mischief and munchies made with marshmellows.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
nine noisy nuthatches in a nest. Nothing more.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park
and I am bringing olives, oysters, oatmeal cookies,
and an opened box of paint for painting
portraits quick and quaint
of a really rude red rooster who slips and slides
over a seesaw to steal my saltine crackers and soggy sandwiches
that truly taste terrible.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
an umbrella from Umbria, and an ugly duckling under my arm for all of us
to admire (because the ugly duckling is really a beautiful swan.)

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
a painting signed "Vincent" of a vase with welcoming sunflowers.

Today I am going to Leonardo Da Vinci Park and I am bringing
friends: Xavier, YOU, Zak, Zoe, and Zelda.

I love the park, don't you?

I can't resist. Here's a firefly joke:

What happened to the dog that swallowed a firefly?

It barked with de-light!

Firefly Poem (revision) Photo Creative Commons
Originally uploaded by V31S70

Mami said let's ride in the car;
I wore my pajamas and she drove very far...

We went through a forest, thick with dark trees.
I slept the whole way with my head on my knees.

Then she stopped, got out, at the top of a hill
Where we spread out a blanket and sat very still.

Diamonds were falling, a dazzling delight;
Bright-eyed were we by firefly light.