At dawn, the day was still
Dark as it is when daylight
Savings rings in the winter;
Skies slower to lighten so
That the light of day has
Crept up on me. I cannot
Tell you when it opened up
When it really turned into
This day, the first of a new
Year. A new year, which I
Am slow to welcome just
As this morning's sky was
Slow to let in light. This is
The first and usually, I like
New beginnings, a fresh
Start. This first feels as if
It's been rotting while it's
Waited for a big entrance.
Is it already stale, and as
Predictable as yesterday?
Author Archives: therealtamara
For an opinionated woman such as I, blogging is an excellent outlet. This is one of many fori that I use to bloviate. Enjoy! Comment on my commentary.
The sky
Look at the sky. I say it
Twice, "Oh my, look at,"
I say, "that sky" and you
Know what? It really is
Worth a second look.
Truly. Deeply
This one is for Burt because I am lucky
It isn't surprising or unusual
That I love you. Everyone, if
They are lucky, loves at some
Point. Most of us crush on a
Boy in homeroom or chem.
Lab, and it might be poorly
Formed and not as mature as
We think love should be, but
It's a start. When I found you
I had gone beyond crushes; I
Was old enough to know what
I wanted from life; who could
Be my partner, friend, lover, and
Companion. I recognized you
Within my soul, at the bottom
Of my heart; you were my guy
In the way those crushes and
Excitements were not. I found
You. It doesn’t surprise me that
I love you. It's how profoundly I
Care that stops me in my tracks,
Melts my breath; that's unusual.
Simply put
The stranger and less familiar
The greater the pull. Unusual
Words want me to use them,
To sprinkle them over the top
Like so much sweet garnish
Over common expressions,
Expanding meanings from the
Ordinary, trivial. Meandering
Far from what you think you're
Saying to a novel thought on
A different trajectory. You've
Built a tree of ideas, branches
Alive with the unexpected, the
Consequences of imaginative
Thinking opens adjacent ideas.
Strange and unfamiliar words.
Transform an idiom, so it's ass
Over teakettle with excitement.
Simply put, give it a new verve.
Shadow
A tall, sleek shadow precedes
Me, delights me. I'm stocky and
Short, that's my shadow, I say,
Pleased that it walks ahead of
Me, that it introduces me to the
World. I don't question that it
Doesn't follow as it should. You
Would expect a shadow behind,
Expect it to follow and not lead
Dawn
Objects in the half-light of
A dawning day teach me
Lessons I never sought
To learn. Lessons about
Impermanence and the
Ways in which our eyes
Deceive, lessons about
Altered shapes in altered
Spaces. They show me
How wrong I can be, and
That not everything I see
Is right there where I think
I put it. They move, they
Change. They are not who
Or what or where I imagine
Or imagined they would be.
Playground
Squeals of joy or surprise
Play out from the swings
And the seesaw, yelps of
Delight, the reverb of life
Lived completely by the
Under ten set relishing a
High-life for little ones on
This cold, but sunny day
Losing you
Losing you as you slowly
Lose yourself is like that
Frantic feeling when you
Can't find your keys, you
Rummage but your breath
Has stopped, why's this
Happening? What's wrong
With me that I can't hold
Onto- it is, of course, more
Profound than missing
Keys or anything from this
Woman's purse, watching
Helplessly as your mind
Wanders so far from any
Reality but the one you trip
Over and imagine, the one
That upsets or amuses you.
You are here and you are
Lost, that's where this stops
Being like my keys which I
Inevitably find. Losing you
Is unlike any other loss. Of
Course it's not like the keys.
A knotted landscape

Trees are upright, righteous,
Long-lived and interesting,
Rough-barked and aged, yet
They have no memory. It's
Mapped out on the surface
Across their skin. Obvious
To us if we want to explore
And know. Or we can just
Enjoy the beauty of their
Stories, the art, the design
Life

Just being able to say, to
Acknowledge those clouds
What a beautiful sky! I say,
Exclaiming to myself, but
Also claiming its calm yet
Torrid outlines for my own
This beautiful sky, it's mine