Week 1
Prompt: DAYDREAMING AGAIN
Paint Chips: forget-me-not
tissue
rolling hills
cookie crumbs
sea glass
Scroll down to enjoy this week’s poems from some of my poetry partners!
The prompt and paint chips conjured thoughts of a beloved pup, havoc we wreak upon our planet; perhaps the second-guessing we engage in with choices we make. There may be a thread through each of these of loss. What do you hear?
Daydreaming Again
by Patricia J. Franz
Spring green rolling hills
hang silent
beyond the valley
I beg a tissue
to wipe the steamed window
checking again
for signs of footprints
You brought me pieces
of sea glass
collected on our walks
I plucked petals of
forget-me-nots,
scattered them
like cookie crumbs,
hoping you might
find your way back to me.
©draft, 2022
California Daydreaming (Again)
A bristle-brush wind scratches
once-green rolling hills
sea glass smooth
forage removed.
This valley spews deathly heat
trees dry, leaves drop,
shriveled tissue
in a climate milieu.
Then tractors & excavators
plow up earth.
Topsoil naked, sunbaked
ready to blow, to sow
for crops, for cash.
Lay down irrigation pipe
in the name of
father, son, & holy farmer
squeeze rivers to rivlets
above & below ground.
My words, not meant to be
another eco-lament ––
Eyes open, this mirror testifies
complicity.
We seize, unleash dreams,
exploit, overfarm, leave
nothing but cookie crumbs
for our children’s children,
the real forget-me-nots
in our earth story.
©draft, Kathy – March 31, 2020
Daydreaming Again
Morning sun peaks out,
breaks cloud and wind’s chill
Ocean tide tills, soft rolling hills
Sparkles in the sand, a mill of sea glass.
Little waves roil, beg to
Forget me not, this Georgia soil,
Where I came to learn of courage and toil.
Cambium boils, we tame fire to restore
Longleaf from the long grief of
90 million acres soiled.
What do we do
Stuck in this mortal coil –
Snap – a rustled wrapper grabs me
A daydream ends, nothing but cookie crumbs.
There goes another box of Trefoils.
Scott Franz | 1 Apr 2022
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 