~~ 1 ~~
the shape of the bowl
carved from chrysanthemum roots—
how unsubstantial
~~ 2 ~~
first day of the year
bright and blue over Dublin
a seagull screeches
~~ 3 ~~
behind the green door
something stirring at nightfall—
thirteen bloody fangs
~~ 4 ~~
the flame that devours
bole and branch, leaf and limb—
how strange the story
~~ 5 ~~
rack near the toilet—
literary magazine
still crisp and unread
~~ 6 ~~
all her wishes for
his speedy recovery—
a turn for the worse
~~ 7 ~~
inklings of mercy
seeping from the holy book
onto her gnarled hands
~~ 8 ~~
ten million poppies
carpeting the soldiers’ graves—
distant Flanders fields
~~ 9 ~~
frivolous pursuits
sucking the life from her soul
dollar by dollar
~~ 10 ~~
the screeching wind
and swiftly rising ocean—
apocalyptic
~~ 11 ~~
summer’s epilogue
written in the raven’s cry
and the falling leaf
~~ 12 ~~
barely audible
her voice inviting earwigs
to the garden feast
© 2014 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Poetry Pantry #224
More The Sunday Whirl, Wordle 184