The April sun
stretches fingers
through leafless tree tops
its warmth welcome
within the tiny patch
you chose to stand in
free from shadow.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Monthly Archives: April 2016
Four Fourteen
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
4-13
Green grass shines
bright in the spring sun
it ripples with the breezes
while the crimson fleck
of a cardinal
flits through the corner
of your eye.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four Twelve
rain soaked morning
warm clothes calling
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
4-11
change is subtle
slow most times
less often it arrives
a cataclysm of words
people, places, things,
cutting like concertina wire
as you scramble over
cut, bloodied, tired
that tipping point reached
you run
slow over the muddy fields
and far away
to a place unseen
by human eyes
pristine, unspoiled,
clean,
without the water
to wash it all away.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 10
Egomaniacs eagerly eating
Pillowy Parisian pastries.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four Nine
The murmur
of frog’s song
and duck’s babble
from the wet heart
of the swamp
reminds us
of the everlasting
change,
the triskele we see
in everything
If we look close enough.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four Ate
The dust laden wind
across the high desert
cracks lips
and exposed skin
like baked mud
around the waterholes
slowly receding
green gems
in the red dirt.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
4 Seven
Protein drink explodes
upon the sidewalk;
tragedy comes
in many guises
this Thursday morning.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four 5
Inuit see clearly
the aput
And the slow suffocation
accompanying it
if the wind could pierce it
you could breathe
the icy air
far away from
the bloody brush strokes
glistening upon the pack ice
left by the nattiq
dragged from their aglu
by the ever hungry
ever silent
ever searching Pihoqahiak.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Four Four
Cold bites downupon your bare neck
Spring seems in retreat
as the winds whip snow
across the smothered
grass.
Daffodils bow their heads
waiting for the sun
to warm it all away.
© Erik Hansen 2016
Filed under Creative Writing, Edges, Poetry, Writing
Edges 