the votives flicker
tangled wicks in stoic bloom
roots unbound by flame
a year on gravity’s wings
blue seafoam sanctuary
–
by James Brush
Poems written by me.
the votives flicker
tangled wicks in stoic bloom
roots unbound by flame
a year on gravity’s wings
blue seafoam sanctuary
–
When all my days have turned to rust,
The poison wind begins to gust,
And strange colors purely Martian
Fill up the sky with choking dust.
When the air begins to thicken
Like a scene from science fiction
I lose sight of Tharsis Montes,
And embrace this redding vision.
Down in Noctis Labyrinthus,
Cut off, alone, I find solace.
Within the planet’s ancient scar,
I marvel as the sky turns ferrous.
The lovely dust darkens the stars
Then blocks the Earth that once was ours.
And now there is nowhere but Mars.
And now there is nowhere but Mars.
—
Not long ago, I had my students write poems using Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” as a model. I decided to have a go at it too. I’ve been reading Kim Stanley Robinson’s Mars Trilogy.
we go back to work
coats wrapped around us
tailpipe smoke
rain snicks the windshield
a monolog of keyboard clicks
books I’m not writing
we study the leaves
fallen beneath the oak tree
they’re brown, he says
Heavy machines clang near the animal shelter while cirrus wisps spiderweb the sky like the broken dirt caked against the curb.
a gray stone
shaped just like the moon
in his pocket
afternoon’s treasures
bang in the washer
autumn dragonfly
carried backwards on the wind
the pool is closed
///
I went for a walk at lunch today. That’s where I often gather my small stones. I found this one and, inspired by Angie Werren’s fine haiku videos, I made a video of it. I loved the simplicity of making this.
cold sunlight
rakes across the grass
shadow deer
windshield wipers
slap the gray curtain
taillights fade