Monthly Archives: January 2013

Small Stone 1/16/2013

Posted on January 16, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

I taste desperation disguised as passion in his kiss.  See me.  Want me.  Need only me because I need.  

Posted in small stone | 15 Comments

behemoth

Posted on January 16, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

They are what swim, what fly, what run; they are the eyes holding firelight in fear-touched hunger. They are the plural as single and the one as many; striped and spotted, feathered and furred, scaled or catching hair against brambles. … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , , , , , | 23 Comments

Small Stone 1/15/2013

Posted on January 15, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

We look for what is lost, that innocence from the garden; the place we were removed from for the price of knowing.  But I have seen the promise of Eden, its beauty, the wild held in the eyes of eagles; … Continue reading →

Posted in small stone | Tagged , | 28 Comments

The Fool

Posted on January 14, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

All he owns tied in that cloth sticked and bundled over his shoulder, blind– he refuses to see his path ending because dreamers only look up, chasing cloud forms and ignore gravity; the earth pulling them close as they savor … Continue reading →

Posted in sestina | Tagged , , , | 73 Comments

Small stone 1/14

Posted on January 14, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

The finch is quiet, though still wings remember heat– arcs of flight fading

Posted in haiku, haiku heights prompt, small stone | Tagged , , | 20 Comments

slicing it thick

Posted on January 13, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

I like to taste moments in thick slices, like Vermont cheddar sliced too wide for delicacy but great for grilling this afternoon of careless shopping; buying calendars on 01/12, half-off though the year is not 2 weeks old and instead of … Continue reading →

Posted in New Free Verse | Tagged , | 16 Comments

1/13/2013

Posted on January 13, 2013 by Susan L Daniels

January softens to 62 degrees.  We open the windows, welcome air foamed with false spring.  My daughter says I missed the smell of the earth, and I know what she speaks to–that blend of mud and grass;  greens and browns rolling through … Continue reading →

Posted in small stone | Tagged | 14 Comments