Two Hands

Left Handed Poem . . .


green leaves push against the window
shoved tight,
their black veins
holding back the stars,
sparks tossed loosely
against the night,
red traffic lights. . .
show as
malevolent burgundy
through the green veneer
pose a question
about time. . .
a dimension designed
like a stained glass window with
colored and shaped sections,
amorphous in close proximity. . .
with infinite possibilities,
yet show a finite story
as viewed from the distance . . .
as time obstructs a story not told
and all the pieces fit together
like a puzzle finished.

##

Right Handed Poem . . .

Blue sky is a tight skin

shoved above

burly mountains,

at the feet of which

dark trees

grasp for space.. .. ..

climbing the slopes

one stacked above the other,

elbows and branches entwined. . .

silent at their bunched roots;

but the mountains creak and moan

as they slowly walk.. .. ..

and they crackle

as they shed the loose flakes of mountain flesh.. .. ..

while the marmot peers

over the boulder's mossy rough edge,

with a tuft of hay

to whisker his face,

and a breezeless air

settles on the land

like a heavy blanket,

while a ripple of movement

down the flanks of the mountain

reveals

a glisten, as a snake glides

loosely down the hill

with a languid purpose;

and over the heavy air

soars a hawk,

black against the tense sky,

sharp eyes turned to the movements below.. .. ..

while flashes of parachuting seeds 

speckle the atmosphere

moving with a swimmer's purposeful ease

and a tranquil buzzing of insects

litter the sound-waves

when a talcum cloud of dust

arises in a brown puff like smoke,

as the unwary snake

is snatched up suddenly

by the hungry hawk.. .. ..

and the marmot

dives deep into his cave

beneath the boulder.

##

Interesting, I notice that both sides of my brain wanted to start a poem with something shoved against something else .. ... hmmm . . . it makes me wonder if they are in competition or communication.  This experiment is becoming interesting to me especially if I write a poem a day with both hands . . . one poem for each paw .. .. .. We'll see what comes of it. Yesterday's entry won't count then because I only did the one poem .. .. .. with the left hand . . .