Five Things

Write down the five of things you hear today, he said
the wind in the maples
the clink of a metal gate
horses as they nip at each other
hawks screaming overhead
the sound of your feet on the dirt path as you walk into the canyon.
The silence is priceless.
The dust?
Golden.
You can have a big house in the city with noise and chatter
or a little house in the canyon with oaks and rattlesnakes
Write down the five things you hear today, he said.
You may not even get to five.


Copyright Hope A. Horner, 2015. Use with permission only. Contact author on hotmail at hopeh1122 or follow on Twitter @HopeNote

Release

Click
       of release

                    into the open

Leap
      of joy
             to break free

Bolt
     of happiness
                     to not be broken

Flash
       of recognition
                          "This is me."





Copyright Hope A. Horner, 2014.
Contact author on gmail at hopeh1122
Follow on Twitter at http://www.twitter.com/hopenote

Peek

Peek

She peeks
over the mountain
down the ravine spotted with chapparel
palace palm trees
cactus patches
purple jacaranda
knotted pines bent at the waist before proud oaks.
Her eyes dart like black phoebes
over red brick roof tops
through baked adobe archways embraced by scarlet bouganvilla.
She waits,
silent and white like cotton
for the sun to grow tired and retreat
so she can make her descent
settle in for the night
belly nested in the sand
cuddling the sailboats in the crooks of her arms
stretching her nose
out over the sea
to peek
over the horizon.


-Copyright Hope A. Horner, 2013. Use with permission only.
From Word Windows Poetry: http://www.wordwindows.blogspot.com
Contact author on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/hopeh1122
Follow on Twitter @HopeNote