who is to question your ways
in a secret covenant every creature calls out
Beloved Beloved …Listen
how quiet is snow capped mountain
where honeysuckle grows wild
heliotrope clings to craggy rocks
snow goose finds refuge
until worldly clatter
flaps its nonsensical ideas
how smart they are
how beautiful
how witty
how cereal A is better than cereal B
poor little human heart
my every breath a last hurrah until I met you
O Weaver Ji
meet me tonight
in the gazebo
please
© 2020 Jennifer Brookins
Mrs. Thrush sings the morning song, cocks her lovely head exhales her spotted cleavage. Dearest friends, herein lies the solution to the world’s problems: people should find a solitary place, open their mouths wide and holler so loud that everyone knows how miserable they are, have no money, their apartment doesn’t have an elevator, the kids never write; worst of all they’re sure someone gave them the dreaded coronavirus because everyone in the supermarket (or maybe the elevator) breathed on them. Dear Heart, please make friends with Mrs. Thrush in the hope she reveals her secret for leading a happy life. She wisely counsels: never fear turning the corner
© 2020 Jennifer Brookins