gulls, and the mosaics of dreams

i broke pencils with too hard a grip
as i tried to write my thoughts as if
i were chiseling them into my skull
it’s no wonder i often feel the pull
of a headache coming on, i slip
over the words, feeling a bit foolish
i imagine myself at times like a gull
making up for gloomy days
by stripping dull coastlines of
shiny litter – trying to make
the most of imperfections,
finding value in the gold
that doesn’t always glitter –
before it stashes itself away into
waves walking with the sun
before it sets and burns away
the things i forgot to write in my head
which will fade into a strange
mosaic dream, outlined
in ocean blue and sunset red
___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 6th, 2017

where my words are sometimes found

sometimes i find them
falling in the rain
other times i see them perching on
clouds’ silver linings
they rarely run red lights but
enjoy the occasional reckless flights
high above canyons or deep into
wishing wells at night, sometimes i find them
twirling their fingers, adding a little
enchantment to magic spells –
i often catch them in the corners
of my eyes, shining on the backs
of rivers or flowers crowded
along sidewalks, sometimes i
even find them during the quiet,
between the moments
you choose to pause or choose
to talk; occasionally
i chisel them
from rocks and stones –
often, and quite emotionally
i’ll extract them
from my heart and bones,
sometimes i even find them
stamped in a cat’s paw prints
in pollen on car hoods in the spring
or even in the last breath of a snake
curled up in a hawk’s claws
or a child’s cry from an unfortunate
bee sting –
mostly, i find
them out in the sun where they tend
to catch my heart on fire – other times
i feel them in the moonlight
where they run a little too cold,
pressing blue frostbitten hands
hard against my soul
and sometimes i find them softening,
warm for the world, in the eyes of
fawns and foals

___
backdated Post a Day poem for April 4th, 2017

heron

he shook his feathers, waiting in the ripples of
the river created by his toes, waiting for
the perfect breeze to raise him higher above his foes
and once the sun grows and tugs the colors
of purple and pink across the skies, within a wink
he’ll land and sink into the darkness
as the day softly dies

____
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: prudent

tree limbs

have you ever watched a flock of tiny birds
leap together from one tree’s limbs to another
tree’s limbs? they don’t hesitate and worry
whether or not the wind will carry them
because as they sing, they realize their
own strength and path resides within their wings
___
written by Tiny Fawns for daily prompt: hesitate