therealtamara

Red skies

The red line in the sky illuminates
Not only my view but also guides
My reminiscences. There've been
Others, just like that or so similar
As to be a twin, a triplet, a dozen.
Who forgets when beauty leads?

Advisory

It looks so clear, so clean, so crisp
Deceptively so. The heat. The heat.
Too hot to enjoy staying out under
The sky. Its sharp lines, its pillowed
Clouds look light and airy, but they
Are heavy and weighted with heat.
Enveloping like a soggy blanket at
Your feet. Deceptively calm, pretty,
So welcoming. Too hot in this heat.

Across a night sky

Across two nights across the 
Night sky lit from within lit by
A waning sun a rising moon 
My skyline offers me drama
With a touch of dramamine.
That last bit is just an LOL or
A "ha" not an aha. There is a
Peace in its symmetry and in
Just how nature blends then
Highlights what man clearly
Is building across two nights
Across the night sky lit by a
Setting sun, or, by electricity,
From within or by the moon

Age old questions

The sun creates both sunlight 
And shadow each an inverse 
Of the other. It's shadows that
Seem the stronger one, written
On the granite face of the walk.
Elusive markings dependent on
Time of day position of the sun
Where they fall they also lead as
If they were breadcrumbs in a
Tale of Hansel or Gretel in their
Escape from a witch who only
Wants to fatten them, her cook
Pot awaiting the moment; they
Awaiting the run-for-it that sets
Them free. Shadows in a forest,
Following the crumbs that birds
Have messed on the way home.
Out of the shadows into the light.

Clang

What is your favorite genre of music?

Rhythm banging melodies rising
Riding the waves of sound where
Beats meet tempo and merit our
Attention. "And a one and a two."
Songs tell us love stories or speak
To heartbreak, hope, or character.
A scherzo, a pastiche, a sonata,
A symphony let us dream our own
Words. Drums and xylophones in
The big parade; trumpets, flutes or
Tamborines, pianos, and violins too
Say what we have known all along

Summer

She walks her summer walk
More a languid strut full of 
Hips and promise. Languid
And languorous, relaxed yet
Sultry. She moves slowly in
The heat, in measured steps.
Her allure is as evident, as 
It is subdued. She is in no 
Hurry to captivate or arouse

Come hither

Hither and yon is an old-style
Perhaps, even an out-moded,
Mandate, a directive that also
Might suggest a scatter-shot 
Charge, a bit of indeciveness,
Forgetfulness in the absent
Minded style. Hither, yon, yet
There's no waffling out of a 
Desire to run out the clock. 
Yes, you go back-and-forth. 
But with no intention other 
Than earnest toing or froing 
In search of who knows what.

Sunset

If not this then what?
What will inspire me if
The blinding ring of the 
Sun fails to bring words
Rushing forth to describe
To capture to encapsulate 
Its fiery splendor? Do I 
Need more reinforcement 
A bigger vocabulary, more
Colorful and spicier then
The one I use every day.
Is awe overwhelmed by the
Sharp but edgy sphere I 
See setting to my west?

Forecast

The rain missed us
This afternoon, but
We did not miss the
Rain. We expected
Drops to catch us 
And looked up as
Clouds circled in a
Horizon above our 
Heads, darkening in
That menacing way
They do when rain
Is in the forecast, a
Window of hours, an
Anticipation it could
Pour now or in four 
Hours or we would
Dodge the event all
In all. The rain came
Later. We were home.

Somewhere

We are here or perhaps 
Perhaps not quite here
But rather we are there
Where it's a greener or
Sweeter pasture further
From where we were or
Where we thought we'd 
Be, enjoying the sweet
Grass, here, lusting o'er
The greener grass there