ㅤqw1Pixabay (altered)

Free Verse Poetry

The remnants greyed.
They were not dead. (I rallied)
What seemedㅤcruel intent
revenge as frigid nature
shows now …not the thing
with feathers,
but stirsㅤ–soul that breaks,
held tender once beneath
dark clothed and rugged skin,
burst the grasp to savage winter.
Budding nubby out a bark
swollen an un-docile pink
springㅤ…mercyㅤmelting a lie
between its teeth,
the…

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Florin Palamarciuc on Unsplash (altered)

Free Verse Poetry

Not surprised
ㅤㅤby its not wanting to go
–summer pulsing outside dusty windows
on a late September day,
sprawls of green spotted yellow to stress.

I’ve little patience left, but not surprised
ㅤㅤby its not wanting to go.
Knowing,ㅤI planted for this
–for hummingbirds (still vibrant)
winging-in hungry to smaller offerings…

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Photo by Mathieu Bigard on Unsplash (altered)

Free Verse

Economy of energy
my thought knots
into 1-note spiritual
(Om of the fevered)
ㅤ...white radiant August
this skin drenched
sans want or craving
–the drip of summer nectar.
ㅤLungs labor
to draw deep enough.
Slumped ‘n lazy,
/sweated thighs sprawl
sloppy-kiss the plastic laced straps
on a derelict lawn chair.
Wanton Southern sun
ㅤㅤ(old scold, she)
strolls with scythe
lopping green off all…

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J.L. Littlejohn

J.L. Littlejohn

Poet/Storyteller ~A Conflict of Words in Tussle With a Pen for a Life of Rhyme. Poetry for The Lit Up, The Junction, Resistance Poetry, Scrittura