I called to the Steller’s jay
rooting for seeds in my shabby garden,
but he didn’t answer; he
just kept flittering hither and thither,
loudly shacking his territory with
a harsh “SHACK-Sheck-sheck-sheck-sheck!”
sifting the choicest bits
ahead of the luckless wrens and finches.
I didn’t think he was listening,
You saw to the quick of the cut,
Wary eye upon the face of God,
Unflinching — courage embracing fear
Reading between lines that most cannot broach;
A living, breathing mystic
Guiding us to infinity,
Almost as if calling your shot.
I ruminate on your crossing, selfishly;
Young poet sharing my…
I came here to check on this month's prompt, and I am shocked and deeply saddened to hear about MDS Hall’s passing. I don’t have the words to convey my surprise and grief.
I didn’t know him very well, but Michael’s writing popped. His words made me feel like he’d be a fun hang, and I hate hanging out for folks, so that’s a pretty big deal for me.
I offer my deepest condolences to Michael’s surviving friends and family. Covid is just ripping lives right from our bosom, and each tragic loss is keenly felt.
Rest in peace, Michael David Saunders Hall.
into a note,
passed to my
callow thoughts around
This first time
wasn’t a love poem,
but final straw;
at her feet,
with vicious cuts.
Tre, the quality of writing was magnificent as the story was emotionally devastating. I am left hollowed-out from reading this.
I don't know what I don't know -- you know, about God, angels, restless souls, and whatnot -- but I hope that whichever spirits commissioned you to pen their tragic collective sorrow -- I just hope they gained some semblance of solace in having their tale told through you, one of our best, most empathetic writers.
We create Janus*
as Janus begat me.
Do we end or begin?
Dear hearts, wait and see.
Shall we march into war
or stride onto peace?
The answer will be
yes, only once apiece.
Janus cares not
from His observatory.
We wait and see.