Autumn (for Dad)

Autumn

for Dad  (1915 – 1997)

 .

It’s a long, silent fall

into the days where Dad

is spoken in past tense.

He was tall

like autumn shadows -

he made us laugh

like the dancing, crackled leaves

around our feet.

And he would fast remind us

that trees

return to green

1955

in this orbit’s gentle whirling

when spring

gives back again.

.

(c) 1997 Betty Hayes Albright

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Acolyte

The moon,

like a giant lily

floats in bloom

on the surface of night.

It’s then we remember

that without Sun

we’d not know of its blossom

except for the tides

rising in our breasts.

.

(c) 1997, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Ivy

.

Her roots are coiled

in rock-bound earth

but her thoughts circle up

the ancient trunk

of a tall elm tree

where they weave

through branches,

burst from submission

calling the name

of a lover’s flight

through the ring

of a voice set free.

.

(c) 1995, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Tea

He wakens her

with cinnamon,

stirs the waters

with his fire

and that which had gone still

is moved

and that which had gone silent

speaks

and what had been uncertain

rises steaming from her heart.

.

(c) 1995, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Prometheus Unglued

He steams free

her edge

like a stamp

from a letter,

Prometheus Rising

she curls

in the heat,

falls away

from the corner

of mythology

to be saved

by the fire

of his hands.

.

(c) 1993, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

.

Image from “Yobar” via Wormspew, found on Bing search.

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Wayward

(from 1975)

.

Rubber band dreams

escape my sleep

stretch their way

across the night,

calling out your name.

Impatiently

I pull them back.

They snap and sting

while somewhere

you awaken,

my name still on your lips.

.

(c) 1975,  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

Pencil drawing (c) 1965

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Reunion

Deep in the folds

of the flannel of night

we hear the drums call

     bu ba boom, da da dum.

Our eyes open wide

as we chew through the shackles

and dance ourselves free,

     bu ba boom, da da dum.

Up the spiral we climb,

our candles held high

to shatter the gloom,

     bu ba boom, da da dum.

At the top we leap clear

of gravity’s hold

on the edge of our words,

     bu ba boom, da da dum.

We land on the sun

where we tear off our masks

and meet just ourselves,

    Bu  Ba  BOOM,  Da  Da  DUM !

 .

© 1993, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright 

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As Usual

She dreams in stitches

across the grain

of midnight cloth

and sees his face

as usual

embroidered on the bias.

Holding tight

she tries to rip

the crooked seam

that binds

their unmatched checks

but then he smiles

as usual,

turns her threads

to boiling veins

and as usual

all their reds and purples

bleed.

.

(c) 1979 Betty Hayes Albright

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Pieces

(re-post)

.

.

When you raise your hands

they’re filled with wind -

     I fly!

Lightning unchains your feet,

you beat thunder

from your chest -

     I dance!

There are no clouds

in your eyes

but they are not rainless -

     I bow.

Birds plant seeds

in your footprints,

I watch them grow

into trees

that walk away

and back again.

They weave a sky

 of bark and green

and sun,

and in the puzzle of light

I see your face.

.

(c) 1995, 2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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Epoch

(another one with revisions…)

.

Epoch

 .

When we raised our heads

the sky broke through

and we saw God.

We stood on stilts

and remembered our names.

But then we saw gashes

in the garden below

and heel marks

from heavy boots.

We saw wolves and coyote

pacing in circles,

watching our eyes.

And we threw off our stilts

and danced around the fire

till Gaia was smooth and warm -

and in the circle of creatures

we remembered their names.

.

(c) 1995, 2011 Betty Hayes Albright

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