Driving to Words

Go driving, said Julia. It will give you miles to unwind.

I don't really like to drive. All week I drove my daughter back and forth to camp. I used it as a time to listen to music. But I was relieved when Friday came. Driving doesn't do for me what it does for Julia.

I prefer to unwind across pages or back porch mornings. Dew on begonias, sage, the lemon-thyme I just transplanted—these things give me rest, open me to write. While driving through Julia's words, I found a sentence that made me pause...

This is the molten light filmmakers call "golden hour," she said.

I liked that. I let it take hold of me. It tickled out an Independence Day poem of sorts...

Sunset

This is the golden hour,
when I can play out my life
in hot pink,
purple,
cherry red,
and instead of giving me
that look, you will
love me for it, ache
for tomorrow, ask me
to do it all over
again.









Fireworks and Girl photos, by L.L. Barkat.

Fourth of July (what else?)

Last night we went to see fireworks— stunning art that traces the sky, then is gone. Ashes to ashes! But the lights played in my dreams. How to capture the loveliness of such ephemeral beauty? Poems seemed just the thing, but they did not come easily. No matter, I offer them to you anyway, as a response to our prompt and as a gift from my little life.

"Fourth of July"

Would that the night
could preserve this
sight of stars
and stripes, red green
fuschia blue and spirals
too like Goldilock's
curls all strung with fire,
explosions that launch,
piercing our hearts,
bang! Shots in the dark
expire in less than
a beat of forever.


"Storm During Fireworks"

Up go rockets, burst!
Sizzle, sizzle, consummation
in the clouds. Rain has come.


"After Fireworks"

I gather my girls under black
umbrella. Two sparklers at my
side, I slip into the night.


POETRY FRIDAY:
High Calling Blogs RAP: Andrew Kippley is God's Poem
Carole’s poetry: the poor
Carl’s Torching all my Idols
Cindy’s Living Waters
Jennifer’s Ring of Hope
Jennifer’s ode to Andrew Kippley
Andrew Kippley's Through Dying Eyes
A Simple Country Girl’s Wanting Out, To Run Free
Monica’s The New Me
Joye’s Star Outside My Window
Mom2Six’s Poetry
Marcus' Garden in Drought
Yvette’s In Memory of Freedom
Joelle’s Mowing the Labyrinth
Laura’s Rain
Megan's Stubborn Bluebonnet
Emily’s Walk in the Woods
Ann’s Old Love
Milton’s handmade life
Claire's a pair of crutches
Tony York's When Poetry Goes Bad
Suzy's Rain Drops and Finger Prints Upon My Window

Alhambra Ceiling picture, by L.L. Barkat.

NEXT WEEK's PROMPT: Post your offering by Thursday, July 9, for links and possible feature at High Calling Blogs. This idea is from Susan Wooldridge's Poem Crazy. 1. Find an object and name it 2. describe what it looks like 3. ask it to bring you a quality it possesses. For example, I might choose the fireworks from last night and write...

Fireworks,
red and blue rain,
bring me your laughter,
tossed again to the wind.