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Archive for the ‘Poetry 1980’s’ Category

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What is it

that makes us dream

an alternate reality

as if such possibility

had fleshed in,

begot life?

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(c) 1981, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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Re-posted from 2012, originally written in 1981. 

Photo taken in 2008.

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I’ll see you

in each color

of the rainbow

inside a bubble

foaming

on the sea.

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I’ll find you

on the wing

of a hummingbird

or at the bottom

of a spot

of tea.

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I’ll meet you

in the middle

of an Oreo

somewhere

on the edges

of a rhyme.

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I’ll love you

at the tip

of the hour hand

resting

on the backside

of time.

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© 1981, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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(Written in 1981,

first posted here in 2012.

And the years keep flying by. 🙂 )

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Thank you to “Own Shadow“, for reading through my archives and suggesting it be put up again.

 

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Last night

I saw your moon

silver,

waxing full

between the clouds,

its hug

wrapping me to sleep.

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This morning

I saw your sunrise

coral,

spreading low

through the clouds,

its breath

flushing over my cheeks.

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Tonight

I see your sunset

violet,

easing down

below the clouds,

its rays

combing out my dreams.

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(c)  1982, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Written in 1982, taken out of mothballs and revised.)

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They were hydrogen.

He was nucleus

stable, self-contained,

she was electron

buzzing-surround

caught by attraction

held firmly in place

unable to split.

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©  1982, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post of a poem written in 1982)

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They accelerate

to new heights

I can’t comprehend,

fly where I’ve never been

leaving behind

dangling apron strings

unhuggable contrails

in the sky.

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They return

weeks later

circling

my head

landing

on new ground

taller now

with hugs

stronger than mine.

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©  1986, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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Written in 1986 when my sons

(teenagers at the time) flew to Oklahoma

to work on my uncle’s farm.

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Magician

(from 1982)

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He removes his cape

and tall silk hat.

With the touch

of his wand

she turns

into a white dove,

cooing.

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It’s easier to leave now,

after the encore.

Goodbyes aren’t real

but magic is.

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(c) 1982, 2016  Betty Hayes Albright

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(from 1981)

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Your smile stakes a claim

on my past.

I laugh and talk small

as if the tunnels

through our hearts

had never been connected,

as if I had no claim to stake

on any part of you.

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© 1981, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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