The Plum and I
Once upon a time
my King of Craving
demands a ripe plum:
“Go, face the demon dog.”
At the chain-link fence,
I kneel and reach through.
The beast snarls, charges.
Nearly snared, plum-less, I run.
Longing summons me back.
A passing knight sees my plight,
rattles the fence, distracts the dog,
permits my safe plunder.
Pleased, my King polishes off the plum,
and lives happily ever…well, for a minute.
A Portal
On a cloudy day my sun fails to rise,
body, caffeinated, wants to walk,
but my spirit sags, overcast, heavy.
A purple morning glory beckons,
a star engraved on its petals.
Inside, luminescent-white
bathes me in light.
