4/19/23 Workshop – A Poem by Virginia Drda

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Transient – Virginia Drda

Sunlight inhale
day’s heart beating
nature’s time clock
pulsing
fleeting
sunset sigh
splashed through the sky
exhaled twilight
waves goodbye

spring wind whispers
breath in bubbles
bursting blossoms
day’s length doubles
firefly blink
firework gasp
sands
slip
through
midsummer’s grasp

coy striptease
of autumn trees
skeletons
bare
in cinnamon breeze

icy frostlace
frozen fingers
winter’s breathcloud
lightly lingers

floating snowflakes
heaven sent
we too
are transient

Reflective writing prompt:
Write about what does not last.

2 thoughts on “4/19/23 Workshop – A Poem by Virginia Drda”

  1. Anita Lim

    WHAT DOES NOT LAST

    Everlastings, pink and white
    A spring bonanza of wildflowers
    Sweeping seashells every day
    for a pristine white sandy beach
    so we won’t cut our feet

    calm seeps in as the roar of
    hypnotic rhythmic waves break
    onto my jagged edges
    Bubbles and foam dissolve
    Happy birthday daddy imprinted in sand

    Spices and herbs rubbing scrubbing
    polishing skin fit for a queen
    slathered in mud
    subtle aroma of frangipani
    they drop every morning
    graveyard flowers

    Praying the way the leaves of
    a prayer plant close at night
    Shadows flee, dew evaporates
    a fern unfurls in sunshine
    sand trickles out of sand dollars

    If only grudges were spider webs
    how we leave legacies
    bitter tears, yearning glances
    smiles, bear hugs, pouts
    angrily shouted words
    mimosa leaves recoil in shame

    I’ll remember these till the day
    my eyes close in death
    destiny thwarted by unspoken vows
    wrinkles and stains the only sign
    of passing years
    curses hang like stalactites

    words of comfort, the touch of a hand
    more, more I want more
    my cup overflows with more than enough
    joy in one ordinary day

    Reply
  2. Victoria Blake

    What Doesn’t Last

    Kathy and I buried Dolly Parton in the front yard under a little tree yesterday.
    Well actually, Kathy ended up doing everything.
    I tried shoveling while Kathy held Dolly,
    but I lacked the expertise and Kathy soon lost patience with me
    and dug the grave herself, even as she still held Dolly in one of her hands.
    I didn’t want to hold Dolly because he’d been in the freezer,
    and something about that creeped me out
    so I just ended up witnessing the whole incident.
    It was pretty unceremonious.
    I thought we should say something.
    I said he’d been a good bird. Kathy agreed.

    I should’ve said something more.

    He lived a long time. At least 20 years.
    His pronouns were he/him, even though he was named Dolly Parton.
    Like his namesake, he was pretty and looked like he was wearing lots of makeup
    because of his red cheeks.
    He seemed happy, but lonely, I think, in his later years.
    If you were whistling somewhere in the house, he always whistled back.
    Kathy was with Dolly when he passed, and I think that makes him lucky
    because I don’t think anyone should die alone.

    He liked lettuce.

    Reply

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