The modern gypsies arrive
midday
to back- in and plug-in
set-up and wash-up
solar panels gleam
in the afternoon light
capturing the moment
the sublime paradox
of their motley
four wheeled renaissance.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Monthly Archives: April 2016
Four 24
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 23
evening swamp song
camp fire comfort.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 22
Grass grows up
between sun bleached
ribs and pelvis
Leaf litter lays
obscured by its insistence
New days rise up
upon the bones of the past
rejoice
in your moment
before the moment has passed.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 21
Sleeping dogs sunning
April sun shining
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 20
Crows’ chortle and quork
echoes through the pines
like laughter in a church
inviting us to take solace
in the forests’ serene majesty.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Simulacrum
It sinks deep into your muddled
mind
late night, dream state
the pins and needles
of a sleeping limb,
tongue probing
for an absent tooth,
the chafe of the tether
pulled from your grasping
hands,
then reality stakes its claim
and upon waking you catch
your breath,
seeking her scent upon the air,
stroking the sheets,
you find them cold.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four Eighteen
Frosted fields smoke
in the early April sun
Turkeys appear
like ghosts
the Tom’s gobbles
cut through the silence
and the hair prickles
at the nape of your neck
in anticipation.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four Seventeen
I remember holding her
so small
so fragile
her cries were so soft
I determined to never let her go
Today is her eighteenth birthday
I made her crepes
her favorite
and we talk
of what she might want to do
after college
God
I love her so much.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
4 Sixteen
Habitually herding hens;
chicken chasing champion.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 15
your breath plumes out
into the chill morning air
cold slowly cut
by the rising sun
the woods are slow
waking up
your footfalls; cymbals crashing
so you stop and watch
and listen
as it all unfolds.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Edges 