Amputated Moon

myopic morning

the only thing in focus

is the deep darkness

up before the alarm sounds

too early to start the day

Pamela Olson, 4/18/08

The night window

has birthed a dawn

still swollen

lifeless

waiting

silence drifts

through the

translucence

day’s birth strains

through the glass

Pamela Olson, 4/17/08

This poem was inspired by the line,

 “the window has other views”

by Wislawa Szymborska (Poefusion).

outside the neighbor is mowing

but my yard remains

overgrown

semi-wild

sun shining on weed and grass alike

thistle

dandelion

clover

henbit

why should I choose

which should live

which should die

Pamela Olson, 4/16/08

it used to be

that cards would be filed

in all these wooden drawers

in all these simple cabinets

in all the libraries

it used to be

that fiction and non-fiction

would be divided up

and author, title, subject

would be discovered

it used to be

that you could pull the drawer open

and inside was the wonder

of a small card

like a map to treasure

simple paper

and typewritten words

placed by hands

who loved all

the books

what have we gained

what have we lost

Pamela Olson, 4/15/08

This poem was written in response to Easystreet Prompts.

all night words and images

play across the ceiling

imperfectly white

my personal movie screen

never-ending loops

without plot or

character development

the frames flicker and skip

the sound stutters

along with the images

as I doze

the reel jerks to a start

when I wake

yet again

minutes later

if you are everyone in your dreams

what about these

late night rapid ponderings

when sleep won’t come or stay

Pamela Olson, 4/14/08

This poem was written for the Monday Mural prompt at Poefusion.

how can this be glory

hanging lost on a bare tree

left alone in death

Pamela Olson, 4/13/08

This haiku was written as a response

to “glory” at One Single Impression.

On the freeway

north out of Alabama

the trees are leaning

into Spring

along the asphalt and concrete

tire treads are scattered

like some lovers’ clothing

discarded in haste

a shoe over there

a belt here

the car next to me

rolls over a shirt

they lead toward

the greening trees

the white-blossomed dogwoods

a perfect lovers’ retreat

Pamela Olson, 4/11/08

journey with me

down a dirt road

welcome the dust

its pure yellowness

rises from each step

welcome the weeds

growing lush at the sides

living guardrails

come with me

match your steps

to mine in tandem

let’s wear the dust

on our skin and the weeds

in our hair

in our journey together

we will be the road

Pamela Olson, 4/10/08

roads that lead to

where I shouldn’t go

have signs intended

toward secrecy

dead end

no outlet

no turnaround

private

no trespassing

some might just stop or

circle around

me— 

I will travel further

Pamela Olson, 4/9/08

This poem was written for the prompt “sign” at Two for Tuesdays.

the road curves

into the dark evergreen forest

cool shade waits

Pamela Olson, 4/8/07

This form is a variation on the Lune written for the prompt at Poefusion.