IN THE GENTLE BREATH OF SPRING

All winter we’ve awaited Spring’s arrival,
at first just a turn of the calendar page.
It seems always a matter of survival.
And although winter’s bite remains at this stage,
Spring will rise at last to conquer her rival.
The moderation of her warmth will quell its rage,
and winter’s memory will be trivial.
In the gentle breath of Spring we will engage.
(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2019
A STRAMBOTTO Poem featured at Poetic Asides with Robert Lee Brewer

SATURDAY, MY BACKYARD

Ok, a bit warm
but not yet oppressive.
My guess is 73 with a breeze.
At work with the hose,
my clothes are summer worn,
(hair not nearly as shorn
as I’d like) Watering
the flowers in bloom
(what’s my obsession
with blooms?) There’s room
on the glider with my name
on it. The birds and gulls
having target practice,
but the canopy will save me.
I see the planes overhead
in a steady stream of going
and coming; flight path
established. Peaceful silence
interrupted by screams
of obnoxious neighbor kids;
i did my time, daughters grown
and “runaway” from home.
Just me and the Missus,
Saturday, my backyard!

(C) Walter J Wojtanik – 2018

MuhwufSS – Off Season

 

L’INVERNO

Silvery pizzicato, strings in vibration, a concerto composed with the chill of viola trills. A hibernation beneath the blank cover shrouding the silence in winter’s prelude. It exudes a gentle whisper. Over near the rivulet, crystals form, there is no warmth to keep her dance nimble. This symbols her station encased, faces rosy and ruddy, frosted and firm.

Wind blown and silent
whispers falling on deaf ears
fears of winter’s blast

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik – 2017

dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday–Shimo No Koe–First Frost’s Voice

RED SAILS AND SUNSETS

Broad brush strokes of Alizarin Crimson and amaranth, American Beauty Rose is a miss that lusters like a ruby in the noonday sun. Auburn tinted leaves leave little to imagine, but the grin that spreads from ear to ear is clear. Brick and mortar are not built for speed, indeed they are solid; a structured foundation upon which lives are constructed. We’ve tucked our collars up and the skies remain changeable. Unstable weather not withstanding, Fall is handing us a sneak peek at the peak of the season. There is no reason to stay sequestered, it has festered for as long as you’ve been marooned. Soon the Cardinal will perch on barren branches and the chances are slim that Winter will delay.

All fruited hints of a tint so rusty; ruddy and bloody replacing candy apple and cherry, (although grapes make great claret; burgundy) and we see the sun diminish at the finish of day. Unfurled, our canvas sways and stays billowed like a skyward pillow capturing the breath of Him. Scarlet spinnaker shadowed in silhouette, you have yet to pull anchor, thankful for this moment.

A descending sun
back-lighting the horizon,
transitions to fall.

© Walter J Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Haibun Monday: Komorebi