old winter man

have you ever seen winter?
he’s an old man, sitting in a corner
of a dimly lit social gathering,
everyone gathering, barking words
all falling short at his feet, his lips
sleep without much to say
soft wide eyes cold and white from all
of the broken hopes that rise
and settle into the arms on the moon
you sometimes feel his wistfulness
when a chill walks in and tries to
curl up to keep warm in the room

backdated post a day poem for October 13, 2017

winter in a frumpy coat

those solid white skies that hang
limp and wet, soggy milk rags
about to wring out their gloomy
boohoos all over me, i try to
see the sun but just see a tall
glass of watery milk, ready
to dump itself all over the heads
of trees – it’s okay, even the skies
sometimes need to be rung out to dry
tearing wind through our hair
poking us with sharp, cold sighs

rain baby, teething

rain showed me a
wet, hungry face
he chewed at the
edges of my jeans
and umbrella, drooling
all over the place,
angry, he stuck out
his fists, shouting –
rattling thunder – and
then quietly settled
into a tiny slumber

pillow talk

the rain wanted to undo
the sun, peel off her
layers, pin her across a blue
sky turned grey –
unwind the threads, one by one
even if they were frayed
to love each hue down
into the ground, see her
true colors bloom, not fade –
arching her back, she listened closer
to what the rain had to say

pink eyelids

to press my face into the sky
wind wrapping warm arms around
my waist, the sun turning my
vision pink when i close my eyelids
to let my daydreams arise
reality softly sinks into the riverside

burning lives

we fool ourselves all of the time
thinking the world is ours
and when that fateful hour arrives
the world will show us how many lives
she still has, she burns through more of them
than cats reincarnated nine times over
tell her to sit down, watch her walk out the door
she’ll take us back to where she begun
back when she was alone, erasing
everything we’ve done

written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: disobey

the kiss

night wears mist like
stockings, she kissed the
moon, sending him
blushing, running after
the sun

backdated Post A Day poem for September 6th, 2017

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