I Don’t Always Poast Pomes …

… but when I do, I like to poast TWO FOR TUESDAY!

I like these. They’ve recently hit my inbox and fit my mood.

Austerity

by Janet Loxley Lewis

From “Cold Hills”

I have lived so long
On the cold hills alone …
I loved the rock
And the lean pine trees,
Hated the life in the turfy meadow,
Hated the heavy, sensuous bees.
I have lived so long
Under the high monotony of starry skies,
I am so cased about
With the clean wind and the cold nights,
People will not let me in
To their warm gardens
Full of bees.

*

Opus 181

by Arthur Davison Ficke

Skeptical cat,
Calm your eyes, and come to me.
For long ago, in some palmed forest,
I too felt claws curling
Within my fingers…
Moons wax and wane;
My eyes, too, once narrowed and widened…
Why do you shrink back?
Come to me: let me pat you–
Come, vast-eyed one…
Or I will spring upon you
And with steel-hook fingers
Tear you limb from limb…

There were twins in my cradle…

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