Poem Shards

in Spring-time everything seems young
as if the Winter had made it reborn
the wild winds 
the cold ice melting
glistens.
It cracks
all at once
and collapses
rushing gorge
chickadees a flutter in the mist beneath the spruces
thicket and a yew




🚦 🚧 🚨 🚩 🚪 🚫 🚬 🚭 🚮 🚯 🚰 🚱 🚲
🌛         



🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌙 🌚 🌛 🌜 🌝. 🚤 🚥

sometimes there is beauty within the fragments . . .
🌜🌜🌜🌝🌛🌛🌛 

Sprongg . . . onng . . . ongg ga

Her tired morning
seems more like poetry
than anything you can
find on a blog.


Bark Bark. Bark Bark. Tree
Bark Bark. Bark Bark. Dog

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌙 🌚 🌛 🌜 🌝. 🚤 🚥

Woof and woe🌝 
🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌙 🌚 🌛 🌜 🌝. 🚤 🚥



who da thought?
thought is sequential
the end of it is never
flood on, river of wise neglect
let the bough break
let the wind blow
removed the baby
from that cradle
long ago
and took him somewhere safe.

Thought is over rated
when it's thought for being mean
to be mean
being mean
what you mean
when you are mean
when you 'mean what you say'.

Memory is overrated
there is joy in the person even
when they don't know
who you are
anymore they still
love you they
usually don't forget that they love you
usually.

It was cold that day he'd
driven all the way there and
plodded through the snow to face
the sorrow of his loved-one
who didn't remember him
but thought him to be someone else
as thwarted.

Memory is overrated
when it's hard hurt of past tragedy
as if it happened yesterday
from the long ago.


  Bill Perilli, 
 writer of all
 of the things 
 on this blog.
🌜🌜🌜🌝🌛🌛🌛