No longer his
birthday, she can
relax for another
364 days. If only
it were a leap
year. She might use
that extra 24 hours
to practice forgetting
who he ever was.
Day Poems
2013 in review
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,400 times in 2013. If it were a cable car, it would take about 40 trips to carry that many people.
Another Cinquain in Which a Minneapolis Girl Without Wheels Contemplates 2014
No more
excuses left—
Saint Paul here she comes now
riding the Green Line LRT
at last.
Don’t Take a Souvenir Cinquain
Flashing
red and white light
above wild clay cliffs
will fade to memory without
rescue.
Lip
He sees
structure in her
she might destroy again
without his voice’s midnight calm
to soothe.
Sandy Hook Light
Too Cold for a Parade
Diamond dust drifts
vertically through air. Sun
dogs will wag
their tails to defy
her resignation
to frown on these shrunken
days. Sixteen more
before they begin
to expand again. Who
needs a float?
Decoding
Even getting to Q
would be more
than she imagined. More than
she could taste
when she licks
stamps for those envelopes
filled with naïve
dreams. Some evaporate
for good without a trace. Others
come true
for a while before turning
into nightmares. And some
hold other positions
in the alphabet
she can’t make out yet.
Thank You
For this
chance to see gifts
everywhere I breathe.
Everything is poetry
today.
White Space
Time out
chairs in corners
of a widening room
beckon her to retrieve those lost
daydreams.
Night & Day Poems of Amy Nash 