Elijah's Bitter Silence

Elijah's Bitter Silence

Bitter silence

The violin music not heard

The son's voice not heard

Harmonizing with his guitar

The friend's laughter never again

The gentle rhythm of his hands on 

Sore muscles, easing pain

Erased

Straight up murdered

For nothing

Also not heard

Any accountability for this

They did all

According to policy

So it's ok

I do not agree

And I am not silent

I am cacophony

Finally getting a little 

Representation

Listening for those

Wheels of justice

Creaking

In this bitter silence

©️🧿Donna Maurice poem/drawing 2020

"Any man's death diminishes me

Because I am involved in mankind

And therefore never send to know 

For whom the bell tolls

The bell tolls for thee"

John Donne from ' No Man Is An Island'

Devotions upon Emergent Occasions

windmills

Horse latitudes

Escape 

Push the prophecy

Self fulfill

When all is said and done

Be balanced of valleys and hills

Cucuzza

two blossoms diverge

fading upon the same stem

having started fruit

©️🧿Donna Maurice poem,/image 2020

Baldeh

cottonwood apex

gimlet eyes tuned to movement

on prairie below

©️🧿Donna Maurice  image/poem 2020

echeveria

echeveria

sends a column of flowers

mixing up the chicks

©️🧿Donna Maurice poem/image 2020

Sangre De Christo Summer

Sangre De Christo Summer

No snow upon the Spanish Peaks

The streams begin to fade

Heat waves distort

The high chaparral

Hot rocks empty

Where lizards had laid

All seek shadows

From the blast of sun

The forge where

Skeletons are made

Save for winged raptors

Who climb thermal stairs

Looking down upon

Land scarred and flayed

In the distance

An adobe church

Its well dug deep 

In the rock of their faith

They plant trees

©️🧿Donna Maurice  poem/image 2020

Armillary

The great armillary of the cosmos
A wonder to behold
All parts whirling synchrony
All dancers, young and old
But mostly the other bodies
Are far away, bright but cold
Far-flung I,  desert rose of stars
Watching the Universe unfold

In patterns brightly ordered

Marching to an unseen goal

A mysterious culmination

Or an endless story told?

Collapsing in upon itself

Down the wyvern's hole!

©️🧿Donna Maurice poem 2020