Poem 30 (whew!) (National Poetry Month): Through the Window

Well, this is it for National Poetry Month 2020. I had hoped my bookstore would be full of poetry all month long. And in a way, it has been. I’ve certainly written a lot of it. And read some (including by NC Poet Laureate Jaki Shelton Greene—and you should too!). And a wonderful friend brought me several new poetry books to read. It’s been…not quite what I wanted (poetry readings and fun times with fellow poets), but I’ve celebrated my love of poetry the best I could in the confines of coronavirus quarantine.

And with that, I leave you with this. Stay well, my friends. And keep reading poetry, and writing it if the spirit moves you. Remember: “To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.” Or so said Robert Frost.

(Note: This is for all the parents and grandparents whose visits from family have been put off because of COVID-19.)

Through the Window

By Michelle Garren Flye

Through the window, I see the squirrels play

I hear the birds singing about the new day—

And you say you’ll be coming to see me

When the world makes travel for you easy.

Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Looking out the window doesn’t tell me a thing.

The traffic flows past, and I sit alone.

And your voice sounds weak on the phone.

Watching does no good, I know.

Nothing I do makes time slow.

The world continues to spin on its way

Even if I sit here watching all day.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 29 (National Poetry Month): The Storm

The Storm

By Michelle Garren Flye

Remember the year it rained so much

Water stood in every crevice and cranny.

The sky was never blue, just gray.

Like concrete, like it stopped us there.

Then we saw the rainbow and blue sky

And we thought the storm was over.

But it was just a little bit of calm.

And then the real storm started.

First the concrete sky came back

And then it began to move and boil

And rain and wind lashed us until

We cowered inside and watched.

The puddles grew bigger and fatter,

Eating everything they touched

Like some sort of dime movie monster

Until everything was drowned in them.

And then the rain stopped finally,

And we waited to discover

If anything had survived the storm.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 28 (National Poetry Month): Gravity’s Effect on Dance

I’ve become more and more experimental as the month wears on, it seems. This morning I decided I wanted to write haiku because I didn’t have as much time. But haiku won’t always hold everything you want to say. In a way, haiku became gravity on my dance. So I tried a different way. I’m including both. I actually plan to revisit the second of these later on.

#1

Gravity’s Effect on Dance

By Michelle Garren Flye

Walking by a field—

Three birds startle and take flight.

I laugh in delight.

The sky holds their dance

Steps made up of soars and wheels—

Wish to join the feels!

Stuck instead on earth…

Feet firmly rooted to ground…

My leap only a bound.

#2

Gravity’s Effect on Dance

By Michelle Garren Flye

Walking by a field today,

I watched three birds startle into flight

Seeing their dance, I laughed in delight.

The sky held their dance,

The steps made up of soars and wheels!

Oh how I wished to join their feels.

Stuck instead to the earth,

My dance can never leave ground—

My leaps to gravity are bound.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 26 (National Poetry Month): Ditch Flower

Ditch Flower

By Michelle Garren Flye

I’ll take your picture now

For tomorrow is uncertain;

We cannot tell when or how

The future pulls the curtain.

It’s pretty sure you’ll go

Sooner than later, my flower,

For the farmer is going to mow

Ere the clouds turn to shower.

Let me capture your grace

Behind my lens to store—

A ditch is not a safe place;

Soon you’ll be here no more.

Here today, gone tomorrow. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 25 (National Poetry Month): when you don’t feel the rhyme

Sometimes the words flow easily and sometimes not so much.

when you don’t feel the rhyme

by michelle garren flye

you say you’re down and just can’t

feel the rhyme

the world off its axis and fallen aslant

you haven’t the time

and life’s hours seem too scant

let the pain flow away instead

to hold us in sway

while an unjust world continues to tread

unless you stay

your hand and find the rhythm instead.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 23 (National Poetry Month): Stay

Inspired by the juvenile owl I saw perched next to his nest in my backyard while his parents chased away the hawks that saw him as prey. As well as my own experiences letting go

Stay

By Michelle Garren Flye

I know the wild world calls—

You want to spread your wings;

But, stay, a little longer, dear.

Put off your springtime flings.

Trust me when I say to you

I remember feeling that way—

Like I’d burst if I didn’t leave

To dance on the wind and play.

But stay, a little longer, dear;

There’s no need for you to rush.

There are dangers you don’t know

That all your dreams may crush.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 15 (National Poetry Month): Coalescence

Coalescence

By Michelle Garren Flye

My brother had a kaleidoscope

When we were little, and I

loved looking into it

Watching the little

Flowers and

Figures

Join.

I feel like that now, watching as

Tiny beliefs and strategies

Join together into one

Whole at the center.

A tiny pinprick,

With fans of

Color

Expanding

Outward in a

Glorious rainbow

Technicolor colors

Many individuals with

Only one cause at the center.

Coincidentally, I’m revealing my cover for Magic at Sea today on The Next Chapter Books & Art’s Instagram and Facebook. It’s a romance that takes place on a cruise ship. How’s that for good timing?

Poem 13 (National Poetry Month): In the Middle of the Storm

In the Middle of the Storm

By Michelle Garren Flye

In the middle of the storm

There’s no time for wondering

If what we are doing is right

(That’s what preparation is for)

The noise and distraction

Leave no room for discussion

About what we’re supposed to do

(So we just do and hope)

It’s only after that we find out

It’s only when we stand on the edge

And survey what’s left that we know

(If we’re lucky enough anyway)

History watches every decision

Written by victors (or victorias)

A reflection of what we did

In the middle of the storm

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 12 (National Poetry Month): (un)social

(un)social

By Michelle Garren Flye

if I waste my time worrying

what others might think

my life may pass in a blink

leaving me sorrowing

(whose fault would that be

where does the blame lie

if common courtesy I defy

and refuse to say I’m sorry)

life goes on with and without

toilet paper on the shelves

and the news overwhelms

the very people it is about

I’ll just drink my corona (beer)

with a little slice of lime

and we’ll talk another time

no matter what you may hear

Happy Easter. Photo by Michelle Garren Flye

Poem 11 (National Poetry Month): Leakage

Another attempt at rhyming poetry. Some are better than others

Leakage

By Michelle Garren Flye

The pool in the forest looks endless and deep.

But I know a secret that I will always keep.

The stream that away from the pool leads

Now has all the water a little stream needs.

But look closer, look harder, and you will find

That time to the stream will not be kind.

Upstream a dam has been built to cut off

The flow to the pool and the stream’s runoff.

Does the pool know it is leaking away?

Will it attempt to make the water stay?

Or just like us, it may avoid the strife

And allow the leakage to continue for life.

Photo by Michelle Garren Flye