contrails trying to not split infinitives

heavenly blue my writing running with the rain


*heavenly blue: morning glory

as if my pen could say it anemones

one CFL slowly warming up dawn

awash with April rain the smokestack sky

Another found monostich

hashtag he calls me big

[Seen all run together as a hashtag in my Facebook news feed]

the blue creates more space we move chairs around and

her children over forty mother's antiques

wet eyes peeling layers I find (just) one

morning fog the lull between death and life

clumsy take-off after clumsy take-off           crows

(over easy)

egg carton empty over easy resurrection

A found monostich

in every cell of my body the bodhisattva of compassion

[slightly modified from a line in Planting Seeds: Practicing Mindfulness with Children, by Thich Nhat Hanh]

a hint of white on the hawthorn baby clouds