Connected by Shadow

 

Adrien tried not to look at Aoife, but his gaze was drawn to her like sparkle to a star. He lowered his eyes as though he was reading his book and hoped she wouldn’t notice him watching her through the shadow of his long, black lashes.

He drank in the line of her jaw. He wanted to kiss the point where it abutted the curve of her neck. The simple gold chain she wore glinted in the afternoon light, calling him. Her crystal pendant hung just above the cleft of cleavage barely visible given her modest blouse.

Aoife raised her slender hand to push a lock of golden hair from where it had fallen on her cheek and he was undone, again, by that graceful neck, no longer shrouded by her tresses. Truly, he was stung by love, and a pleasant sting it was.

Adrien could feel the color rise to his cheeks as he thought of what it would be like to hold her and murmur into that darling, delicate ear. Would she welcome his secrets, his confessions?

Resolved, he closed his book, stood, and on sure feet, walked to her.

Aoife looked up as Adrien approached. Had he seen her watching him? Did he know that she longed to rest her cheek against his shoulder? That she yearned to feel the whisper of those long, black lashes as he kissed the tender place where jaw met neck?

Her whole village knew of him. But only she knew him, understood him. Of this she was certain, and she was unafraid.

She knew he was beautiful to behold. She knew that he was strong and faster than thought. She knew he would be gentle. And she was not surprised that he arrived without a sound. She was also not surprised that he arrived without a shadow. After all, she had stolen it when they were small children, their families passing on a rutted road. It was what bound them together. Did he remember?

Fortitude

 

Sip surely my friends

The nectar from your cup

Savor and relish

The fire in your throat

You will need it in the days ahead

To bolster your courage

And batten your hatches

Against the blowback of

Political spittle

As it flies from the forums

Spewing waves of misinformation

And obfuscation

Each candidate claims to love you better

Than any other

 

Images melt and merge

Our flag and Christians' bible

Abused as props

Issues appropriated and distorted

To fit a predefined narrative

 

Impossible to discern earnest

From dishonest

Hyperbole from fact

 

We, the people, stand dazed

Amidst the wreckage

Of our country

Sane and Insane

"Dang it! I told you to stop tinkering with the formula. The full extent of the interaction implications may never be known."

A wavering sphere hung in the air between us, partially obscuring Charlie's face, yet I could see enough to recognize his irritation at being interrupted.

"Seriously Charlie. I know mom left you in charge, but you just can't go about creating concoctions for blips and giggles."

Charlie walked around the manifestation until we were nearly nose to nose.

"Charlene," he hissed at me. "You are such a bossy britches. You're just jealous because I have more talent in my little finger than you have in your own body.

"Me jealous?" I laughed. He may be my brother, older by 3 minutes, but any similarities between us ended at unruly brown hair and an aptitude for the arcane. Mom should really have named us night and day, or dark and light, or sane and insane. Now that would have been fitting.

The wavering blob moved closer to Charlie and hovered over his shoulder.

"Charlene, what I did isn't a mistake. I meant to create this. It is my life's greatest achievement. "

With that, he turned and dove into the blob, disappearing. The blob belched before gliding out the open door.

Mom was going to be so mad.

 

elements

displaced water ripples      

 

air bubbles, misplaced

rise, bursting

surface

to be

re-absorbed

 

elements align

defy assignment

up or down, then or now

 

lost in the undertow

     I marvel

Brother From Another Hill

I saw him as he shambled toward the entrance. The wind ruffled his hair, but he did not seem to notice. Clods of dirt fell with each step. An air of dazed dejection hovered about him.

I stepped back from my vantage point as a knock echoed throughout our home. Everyone stopped what they were doing and, in unison, turned toward our makeshift door. I must admit that it was not a pretty fixture, but it slowed those down who meant us harm.

A visitor who knocked was rare here. I took a moment to gather myself before striding to the door to greet this sad and disheveled visitor.

“Who goes there,” I demanded.

“A brother from another hill,” came the reply.

I muscled the door open and took a closer look at the stranger. It was then that I noticed he was 

missing an eye, and when he moved back to allow for the swing of the door, I could see that one leg bent in an odd manner. Whatever he had been through, it was not good. I scanned the horizon, hoping he had not been followed.

I motioned him in, and he entered as quickly as his awkward gate allowed. I closed the door.

He looked ready to collapse, so I offered him an arm and ushered him to a chair.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “You are most kind.”

I handed him a drink. He sipped and shuddered, unsuccessfully attempting to stanch the tears that 

flowed from his eyes. They created trails of clean skin, vertical stripes in the grime on his face.

“I’m looking for a place,” he told me. “They… blew mine up.”

My eyes widened.

“Who blew it up?”

“Some of the two-legged, two-handed,” he replied. “Adolescents, I think.”

He swallowed hard, resolve gleaming in his eyes. He would tell their story and remember.

“We were finishing work for the day. Those who had assignments outside were on their way back. 

Our infants were in the nursery. Before we could gather for dinner, the two-legged, two-handed shoved something through our door. It sparked with fire before exploding. My brothers and sisters were blown up. Some disintegrated on the spot. Some were thrown from our home and consumed by predators.

“I am the only survivor.” Here, he paused, straightened his antennae, and looked me in the eye. “And now I am here, with you, asking for a place and help to avenge my colony.”

I paused for only a moment.

“This is now your place, and our colony is your colony. We march at dawn.”

Illuminant Ruminant

The illuminant ruminant 

chewed ideas until cogitation coalesced 

and a bulb burst above her head 

birthing a thought 

which grew into dream 

which became a plan 

which graduated to an action 

thus propelling the

illuminant ruminant 

from her place among the herd 

to an elevated echelon 

where she mentored more and 

initiated less 

eventually becoming a figure head 

and then just a head 

from which spouted 

light and meaning and wisdom 

but her acolytes took no action 

because they were 

mere ruminants minus the 

illuminance 

which left them fuming, impotent 

and empty 

and left her 

just a head 

of 

the 

herd.

Evolve

I am heavy

A blue whale on

dry land

struggling over rocks and

needle sharp grass

skin parched

soul lonely

yearning for

comfort

Destined for change

I push on

To survive

To evolve