Small Stone

A yellow flame

Of cool moist flesh

A solitary bloom

Against an azure sky

It's Like Herding Cats

I'm participating in Small Stones (see link on right) and finding it quite difficult.  To come up with a moment in time, captured with as few words as possible...writer Virginia Woolf had a term for it which of course I can no longer remember, but her characters were often stunned into a moment of brilliant clarity that, to put it in modern terms, rocked their world.

So, to compensate for my lack of ability with the small stones, I'm going back over things I've written, especially poems.  Some times it helps.  Most times not.  But I did re-read a gem I wrote four years ago called Old Love.  I received some very lovely comments on it, which pleased me immensely.  This poem is a small stone of sorts, but much too long for this particular exercise I think.

Another Small Stone

Oh slippery morning.

It’s eleven twelve.

Today's Small Stone

Shade of pine,

 

      cypress and madrone

promise a cool day

     when stars light the night.

*

Taradharma

A Small Stone

Adapted from a recent post of mine.

"As I walk the lush lawn, over gentle hillocks bearing hoary twisted trees, I walk upon the bone and dust of Daney, and Mother, and so many others. "  Today's small stone.