When Sunshine Returns at Last
there will be
lollies and ice cream,
the gleam
of approaching pond.
Should the bevy of swans
float by this year,
my camera
shall rest at ease;
hour the internet
fails to see
then lived.
Still if,
as though by magic,
our heron lands
upon that same
pale priesthood cottage
or twin distant
seaward strands,
we must commit them
to memories,
hoping next time
the sunshine gets torn away,
something fiercer than nights
we'll see.
To the Heavens Steer
Golden glitter unicorn snowglobe
gifted at Christmas, shaken, spun.
Hunches and hints of past adventures,
neither can know what's left to come.
Sloping, swirling, shimmering, shaping,
sinking, twirling, glimmering, strong.
Clueless without your 'random' signals;
lost we may seem, though not for long.
Questions extended, pesky subjects,
solicitudes, independence, fear.
Output imprinted upon my psyche,
something to salvage this awkward year.
Strange divination or self-cajoling,
either will do; to the heavens steer.