Iceburg Melting

We met in the middle
of our lives,
like a cool breeze in summer
from and arctic iceburg melting,
as the shifting
of the plates strongly suggested
an earthquake;
as the bunnies were stomping to warn
all the others,
The zebras ran restless and silent.
But I'm just one girl,
in the study of nature;
So don't ask me what this could mean.

Primal

I want to howl
at the moon
from the depths of this deep.
And in that howl would be all the words
I've yet to formulate -
Forgive me.
I want to howl
at the moon.
Or if it's daytime out,
the sun;
just to sit in the glorious circle hanging above me
and howl.

Ancient Pillars

The leaving was easy, she left in an instant;
surprising for how long she'd stayed.
She waited until she was done with the waiting, then pushed ancient pillars and prayed.

It crumbled so fast and with surprising ease; so much power in such little hands.
(I used to think sacred things never could crumble, but now I know sometimes they can.)

The pipes down below

To get to the pipes down below,
they first had to tear up the road
that carried each heavy wide load
and more cars that can ever be told.
Those men with their pickax and drills,
orange vests, digging loadly and still
digging deeper. The whole messy task
caused my son, as we drove past, to ask
 "Mom why are they breaking the road?
It's such a big mess, and I'm cold."
I told him all that I could tell
from not knowing roadwork too well,
"Son, to fix all the pipes down below,
they first had to tear up the road."

When you were born

When you were born, it was winter,
or summer; a summery winter,
or something.
The Spring had just sprung,
or the Fall had just fallen;
the leaves were all golden
and dropping.
The day you were born
was the middle of the night
as the night had just turned
into morning.
The mourning dove sat
In it's downy lined nest to protect
the fine babies it sang to.
And you were as loved and as
doted upon, as your birth broke
through all we once handled.
It's just, these strange times,
 and these petty dime crimes;
but we loved you,
we loved you,
We desperately loved you.
We loved you,
if ever so badly.

What you see

What you see is a cloth on a table
That covers the pock marks of time.
Like that time with the knife- (an accident,
really, but still you can feel where it cut
through the wood if you just run
your fingers across it.)
This fabric was costly, but it is so thin.
How easy some child or her loud laughing father-
(Both clumsy!) could trip up and pull it all down.
So that's why to never have company over; just do not invite them, that's what.
'cause you see here a tablecloth,
 perfect and light, not
the table itself
Underneath.