Richard G Witham

A Comforting sigh
Reaches across the table
I look away

place heal roll forward
launch from ball of foot and toes
repeat with left foot

tussled old hippie
bald and chubby in zen robes
retrieving my wine

a young girls laughter
reminds me of my daughters
off now on their own

Soft wind strikes my face
brown leaves drift through my shadow
I praise the morning

turning from the light
to warm shadows
dancing on my bedroom wall

reaching through mist
I emerge from darkness
toward a distant light

Distance

In his eye

Perhaps I saw a twinkle

A subtle movement of wrinkles

From a weary smile

Or a reminiscent

Sigh

Cool mist burst into flame
Bouncing off glistening walls
Slithering, stinging, venturing

Se escapa el niño, hacia el rincón de las palomas.

Red river burning
Bubbling
Boiling
Bursting through my veins

David stood under the shower and looked into the cool spray.

Thursday mourning Wednesday’s Song

A wary step

Wish I might
Take the step
Despite

There was a lurking shadow over my being as if I were floating on a river and suddenly found myself in waters that I had left behind …

A hazy dè sha vue.

He sat on a trash can and leaned his back against the stucco wall. A cool breeze swept up from passing cars and turned the sweat on his neck into tingling goosebumps.

I am the firm bolder
Upon which fertile earth
Has gathered
And into which
Creep the roots
Of a mighty pine

The good news is that many commercially available tools can be improvised with a bit of ingenuity and a little digging around the house.

He reached for his mug of tea and realized he’d forgotten it. The thought of pulling his body and the bundle of bedcovers from his chair seemed cumbersome and futile.

A thought passes before my view
Drifting lightly; hanging from a thread, searching for an anchor
Grasping it with innocence; mistaking it for my own, pulling it unto me