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Posts Tagged ‘sky’

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Little garden pond

longs to be round as the sky —

Moon reflects on that.

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(c) 2020  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Image from copyright free source in 2012)

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Clouds

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Clouds morphing,

chasing through the sky

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storming in a buffalo,

scooting off a lamb –

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shifty creatures

drawn by the wind.

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©  1982, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(Revised from a 1982 poem.)

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IMG_7507

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Heavy laden sky

surrenders to lure of earth

forest is hush-hush.

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 © 2013, 2018  Betty Hayes Albright

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(A re-post) 

Photo taken 12-20-2013

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It changes fast

that marbled sky

from sheets of paste

to curds of gray

and thin blue belts

with heads of steel

connected

by chain lightning.

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Clouds turn glassy

shadows break

we hasten through

the cracking storm

but pause to lift

our empty cups

to catch the rain

and raise a toast

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to the wild wind’s

un-leafing

of the fall.

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© 1993, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post, revised)

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Shadows grow hungry,

the sky is in knots,

apples are mellow –

the faeries draw lots,

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rabbits have vanished

from safe hiding spots,

hawk flies in circles

connecting the dots.

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© 2014, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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Feathered paint on blue

white contrails and faerie wings

Gaia strokes the sky.

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© 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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(photo Aug. 2014)

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.When she called his name

to the north wind

it roared

through the trees

and made her winter green.

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When she called his name

to the mountainside

it rose

up the ridge

like a fever.

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When she called his name

to the racing sky

it echoed

like a dozen geese

searching for a season.

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When she called his name

to the ocean

it churned

to salt butter

on her toast.

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When she called his name

to a sliver of moon

it hung like a lamp

on the dark side

of doubt

and this time she knew

that he heard.

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(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright

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Wax the stars, old moon –

hone your path across the sky,

peel away the night.

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(c) 2013 Betty Hayes Albright

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It changes fast,

that marbled sky

from sheets of paste

to curds of gray,

from belts of blue

to heads of steel

connected by chain lightning.

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Clouds turn to glass,

our shadows break

as we hasten through

the cracking storm

but we pause to lift

our empty cups

to catch the rain

and toast

the unleafing of fall.

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© 1993, 2012 Betty Hayes Albright 

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.       (from 1970)

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Someday I’m going to climb a tree

to reach its very highest limb

and there I’ll sit and listen to

the merry music of the wind.

Spying on the world below

from my secret hiding place

I’ll chuckle softly to myself

each time a bird flies past my face.

I’ll hug a branch and sing out loud:

way up here my eyes can fly!

Then climbing down most carefully

I’ll whisper, see you later, sky.

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(c)  1970,  2012  Betty Hayes Albright

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