exploring life in all its variety

February 6, 2007

Life’s palette

Souls come in splashes of color, intermingling,
from pale spring pastel to chartreuse, opening
a gaudy bloom in a hot summer garden,
or tossing a pigment-saturated leaf in autumn.
One fades, a soft breeze that waved flower tops
departs in murmurs of leaves, a whisper lost.
Another dies. All the flowers droop, leaves fall as one,
surrender to winter’s chill and the death of the sun,
as if each only stood upright or hung on to
witness the flash and brilliance of a single hue.

Copyright © 2007 Barbara W. Klaser

File: — Barbara @ 5:21 pm PST, 02/06/07

Sometimes a flood

Grief lays stones in my heart,
one for each loss,
gemstones all, but
it’s harder to pump
blood around stones.

Sometimes a family
of beavers moves in,
fells trees, sets up house.
Minding their business,
they don’t know
they stop the flow.
The pressure builds,
wet, heavy,
nudging rocks,
until the dam bursts,
catching me unaware—
catching us all unaware.

Sometimes the buildup’s
so slow I don’t know I hurt
until the dam bursts.
Sometimes I’m washed away.
But the rocks, they stay.

Copyright © 2007 Barbara W. Klaser

File: — Barbara @ 4:36 pm PST, 02/06/07

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