The Red Wheelbarrow

The Red Wheelbarrow

By

Lisa A. Williams

 

 From the ruins

fields harvest time-

cast from calloused hands,

debris found a home

in the red wheelbarrow-

Shedding 

blood red anonymity 

to sun, rain and years.


In response to Poets United Wednesday Prompt- The Red Wheelbarrow by William Carlos Williams

Morning Theft

Morning Theft

By

Lisa A.Williams

(Jeff Buckley Prompt 14)

Ungrateful

we close the space

where time heals the wound.

Chasm deep-

we feed on that sorrow

beneath the stolen morning mist

we try to wipe from each others eyes.

We send it to the depths

where shipwrecked

it lies on a floor of sinking sand,

anchored by the heaviness of our

theft of a newborn day.

Sweet Baby Born

Sweet Baby Born

By

Lisa A.Williams

Fair haired, blued eyed

generations in you.

The scent, sweet baby born

of my daughter, lingers

in the soft feel of your being.

Without a word, love was born

when I held you and felt as if

I were holding her once again

Summer

                                                                         

Summer

by

Lisa A.Williams

Sleepy summer-

resting,

on the arc of autumn

whose cascade of fiery hue,

arrogantly reminds

that even in dying

there is beauty.

.

Sleeping summer,

burrowed beneath,

the pure white blanket

of cold forgiving,

waiting in the deep dark

dreaming

of old worlds

and their clock-run consistencies

of time and season,

where her lingering ghost,

is summoned

by desires

of earth and flesh.

The Stillness of Stone

The Stillness of Stone

By

Lisa A.Williams

Stone still

in the empty space

between those words

 we dare not speak

 lest they summon

 once upon a times

which left empty hallways

in the castles we built

against the bluest sky.

Filled with desire
 we travel
 through dark caverns-

                                                                      

Fearing

what dreams still echo

among those walls of stone.

The Well

The Well

By         

Lisa A.Williams

The well-

so deep as I peered into the

fathoms of remembrance,

embraced in a turbulent tide

an undertow of need carrying

me to distant shores.

I released anchors,

rising to the surface,

bathed in the pureness

of being all I could be-

Realizing

I had been drowning in

waters of denial.

Desert Heart (re-posted from 08/2012)

Desert Heart

By

Lisa A.Williams

Desert heart-

nomad in a lonely land of

                                                                        fallen memories

brittle pieces of self-

cracks in the surface

only we ourselves can see.

Parched heartland

which can give no more

than what is

beneath the stone

we have set

in our solitary quest

to quench

the  undying thirst

for the why

 of us.

Before The Bough Breaks

Before the Bough Breaks

By
Lisa A.Williams

Bent-

beneath a heavy sky

Feeling  rains

pour from blue eternity

where a spectrum of color

illuminates shaded thoughts

as they scatter, seeking shelter from

the fearful rising of a summer sun

who beckons them to grow in the

unsown fields of a feral land.

Deep Water (re-posted from 09/2012)

Deep Water

By

Lisa A.Williams

I know

the way she feels-

Immersed

 in the turbulent tide,

torn between the freeing

of the waves

and the steady

earth.

                                                                       Standing still,

eyes fixed on the horizon,

the moon

casts heaven’s reflection

skimming the deep.

How the lunar light

pulls to call her home

but she is earthbound,

turns away

from her reflection.

 Blanketed in

darkness,

she wears the shroud

of “happy”

and returns

to“life”

 drowning

in all its illusions.

I've Been Away

I’ve Been Away

By       

Lisa A.Williams

I’ve been away for awhile, silent

holding in, waiting for the spark

to ignite the feeling slumbering in hot ash

born of an emotion I hold like a newborn

cradling its infancy, waiting to nurture its first cry.