These poems can be found at:
Wasteland
The furrowed banks are dry and crusted
On Truman Ave
Honduran Lady,
Wasteland
The furrowed banks are dry and crusted
With the brittle loam of an exhausted soil.
No plough shall probe the once fertile depths,
No humid fruit shall reward the ploughman’s toil.
But a glint of sunlight still gleams upon the plough,
Warm rain still soaks the sterile ground,
And even now in that defiant bed
There blooms a tender passionflower.
~ DonnadiesNo plough shall probe the once fertile depths,
No humid fruit shall reward the ploughman’s toil.
But a glint of sunlight still gleams upon the plough,
Warm rain still soaks the sterile ground,
And even now in that defiant bed
There blooms a tender passionflower.
Honduran Lady,
white hot air and the smell of laundry,
white noise of washing
and the hum of your machine.
Every Thursday
the cycle repeats.
Weeklong I pile clothes and quarters high
in anticipation of my return.
Once the spin cycle whirls to an end
I gather my things
and leave.
~Donnadies
I couldn't make up my mind which one I liked better so I figured we would get a 2 for 1 this week.
white noise of washing
and the hum of your machine.
Every Thursday
the cycle repeats.
Weeklong I pile clothes and quarters high
in anticipation of my return.
Once the spin cycle whirls to an end
I gather my things
and leave.
~Donnadies
I couldn't make up my mind which one I liked better so I figured we would get a 2 for 1 this week.
